Reale Liebe
by InterNutter
Summary: 30 at last! Rated for some violence and language. The continuing saga of a blue fuzzy elf and his search for true love ^_^ Now accepting suggestions for the next chapters...
1. Part 1

Disclaimer: Their toys. My game. No stealing!  
  
Achiving: Exclusive to Alaer Kino! Must have *both* our approvals to pass on!  
  
Code-o-rama:  
*bla* - emphasis  
_bla_ - italics or thought  
{bla} - sound effect  
[bla] - foreign language  
  
Reale Liebe  
InterNutter  
  
::Chapter:_:Part 1 ^_^  
  
"...Just like little girls and boys... Playing with their little  
toys..."  
Kitty groaned and fumbled for something to throw. If there was one  
thing worse than the Beatles at bumblefuck in the morning; it was the  
Beatles, sung acapella, at bumblefuck in the morning by a certain fuzzy  
blue elf-boy.  
"...Seems like all I really was doing (dun dun dun) Was waiting for  
*yooooooooo-ooo-ooo-oo-ooo*!"  
_Great. Now he's going to do the high notes..._  
"No need to beeeeeee alone... No need to *beeeeeeeeeeeeeee* alone.  
It's real love. It's re-eee-eee-ee-eal. Yes it's re-eal love--"  
*That* did it. Kitty gave up on sleep and stormed towards the boys'  
bathroom to pound on the door. "WILL YOU SHUT THE HELL UP! SOME PEOPLE  
ARE TRYING TO *SLEEP*!"  
"I can't hear you," Kurt sang out. "I'm washing my hair."  
"Just keep it down to a dull roar!" Kitty yelled through the door. She  
ignored the sleep-fogged glares of her teammates and considered  
compiling a top ten list of nasty things to do in revenge to Kurt, and  
then carrying them out. "Some of us want to wake up like, *after* dawn  
you know..."  
"Too late for that *now*," said Ray. He yawned. "Why the hell you  
gotta throw a hissy fit at four in the morning?"  
"...No need to beeeee alone... No need to *beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee*  
alone..."  
"Like, answer your question?" Her brain caught up with what Ray said,  
"And I am *NOT* throwing a *hissy fit*! I am just *trying* to get some  
*sleep*!"  
"Uhn. Sorry, my bad," he placated. "Tantrum." Then he wisely shut and  
locked his door before Kitty could throw something at him.  
"It wouldn't like, be so bad if he like, hasn't been doing it for FIVE  
STRAIGHT *DAYS*!"  
"Well sorry for being happy," Kurt sarcasmed through the door.  
"You could at least like, give us a break and sing something *else*."  
He started on _She Loves You_ in German.  
"*RRRRR*!" She swore; soon, steam would be coming out of her ears...  
_Oh, the heck with it. I might as well start getting ready today, too.  
At least I like, have dibs on the girls' bathroom._  
  
"I... love... you..." Kurt sang under his breath as he brushed himself  
down. Never before had he taken such care of himself. Not even when  
Kitty asked him out to the movies and then 'took a rain check' for some  
test, yet still had time to go out somewhere with Lance.  
_Ach, forget it. She was never really interested, anyway. The endless  
times she ran screaming should have been a *slight* clue..._ His head  
filled with memories. His ernest attempts to gain her affections, her  
retreating back at warp seven.  
No more. Not since he found Amanda.  
Amanda would never run away, accompanied by squeals of, "Ewww,  
*gross*!" nor would she cringe at the touch of his fur as if he carried  
some infectious disease.  
Kitty only warmed to him after his life had been in peril. Were it not  
for Rogue, Kurt was sure, she'd still be afraid to share his air.  
But Amanda wasn't like that. Amanda liked his fur, his little purrs  
when she touched him, his tail tricks - which mostly involved sneaking  
around her waist and giving her a squeeze. Kitty, as far as Kurt  
recalled, had shuddered and phased away as quickly as she could.  
*Amanda* giggled.  
Ah, lovely, curvacious Amanda... She was, in Kurt's humble opinion,  
stacked like a brick smokehouse. And, to make things even more perfect,  
she was eminently huggable. Every time he wrapped his arms around her,  
he never had to worry about finding a protruding bone poking through her  
lovely skin. No stupid diets for *this* fraulein. She *knew* how to fill  
a dress.  
Amanda was *definitely* a 'keeper'.  
Kurt selected his clothes with care, balancing how they'd look on both  
his hologram *and* his normal self. _What a phrase..._ he thought.  
_'Normal' self. I never thought I'd use it on *me*._ He grinned. What a  
difference one woman could make.  
  
Kitty glared daggers at Kurt as he 'stopped for a chat' at Amanda's  
locker. What did he *see* in that hippo? Look at her! She's like,  
*enormous*. _Hmp. Probably recognises someone *else* who's like, totally  
*desperate*._ Kitty gnawed on a piece of celery, chewing slowly so that  
her stomach would feel fuller sooner.  
Ew, *gross*! Kurt was feeding her fries from *Gut Bomb*... Like,  
totally *lard*some! *And* she like, gulped them down as if she was  
starving. Like she'd ever need food. She was practically a carnival  
attraction.  
"Birds of a feather," said Tabitha, voicing Kitty's thoughts. She was  
looking a little jealous herself. "...urgh... What does he *see* in her?  
I mean, what has she got that *I* haven't?" She reseated her boobs so  
that more of them spilled out of her top.  
"Maybe like, a butt the size of Utah," said Kitty. She looked at  
Tabitha. Tabitha looked back. They both grinned. By unspoken agreement  
they started cruising towards the couple.  
"I swear, that girl is so fat," Tabitha began, "she can't wear black  
at the beach. Greenpeace keeps trying to put her back in the sea."  
Kitty laughed. "She's so fat that she like, loans her dresses to  
campers."  
"She's so fat, National Geographic did a documentary on her!"  
"She's so fat, her ass has its own zip code."  
Kurt, as usual, was completely missing the point. "Gut morning," he  
said, still cheery. "You girls doing 'yo mama'?"  
"No," said Tabitha.  
"We're doing 'yo girlfriend'." She and Tabby burst out laughing as  
they rounded the corner, then they laid on speed, just in case.  
  
Amanda was just plain stunned. "I thought Kitty was *nice*," she  
said.  
"She *was* nice," said Kurt. "I don't get it. Before you and I got  
together, she couldn't stand to be near me. Now, she's acting all  
jealous..."  
"Maybe she's feeling ignored," she suggested. Inside her head, she was  
regretting those fries. "Um. Do you think I'm fat, Kurt?"  
He lunged at her, seized her waist with a sexy growl and tipped her  
backwards for a passionate kiss. When he came up for air, his eyes were  
full of love and mischief. "Answer your question, liebe?"  
Amanda waited until the stars went away from her field of vision.  
"...wow..."  
"Never diet," he purred. "I love you for *you*." He helped her back  
onto her feet. "You wouldn't be the same if there was less of you to  
love."  
"Shut up and kiss me," she cooed.  
Kurt was happy to oblige. Where and how he learned to kiss like that  
was a mystery to her, but Amanda was very glad that he did. He could  
make her float. He could make her fly.  
"*Eeewwwww*... Like, get a room!"  
They broke their kiss, but not their embrace.  
"Did you hear something, geliebt?" said Kurt.  
"Mmmmm... Nah," said Amanda.  
  
Stupid Amada. Stupid Kurt. Stupid fat Amanda. Stupid ugly Kurt. Stupid  
love.  
"Kurt loves Amanda" had been doodled onto her desk by one of the two.  
Ew.  
She was so *fat*. If it weren't for the breasts, she could be a guy in  
drag.  
Kitty started to grin evilly, and doodled next to the love-heart,  
"Kurt loves a man, duh," as a form of petty revenge.  
Stupid both of them. They like, practically deserved each other. They  
were like, freaks.  
_Not like me,_ Kitty gloated. _I'm perfect in every way. I'm the  
perfect size. I'm the perfect weight. I have the perfect boyfriend - the  
cool, leather-wearing rebel type. And those muscles..._ She sighed.  
"Miss *Pryde*!"  
"...huh?" Kitty blushed. She'd been *deep* into lala land. "Like, what  
was the question?"  
The rest of the class erupted into laughter.  
  
Someone tapped her on the shoulder in the queue for the cafeteria  
counter. Kitty turned to find Amanda.  
"Who are *you* to talk about being sexless?" she demanded. "Girl, you  
ain't even got *breasts*."  
"I have them," Kitty said, trying to remain calm. She was almost  
Sixteen and still wearing training bras. "I like, just don't *flaunt*  
them like some like, cheap whore."  
"You come up with that all by yourself? Or did you have to look it  
up?" Amanda folded her arms, co-incidentally bumping up her cleavage.  
"If you did, I'm surprised you could *see*, what with that Mimi-wannabe  
makeup job you've got on."  
"Yeah, that's right," Kitty snarled. "Bump 'em up even more. Let the  
whole world see you've got like, implants or something. And FYI? This  
happens to be the latest style. Fresh from Vogue."  
Amanda snorted. "Last time I saw a fright job like that, it was to  
cover up a black eye."  
"So you'd like, know about that, would you?"  
"How about it, Pryde? Has your boyfriend stopped hitting you?"  
"Has *yours*?"  
"Katzchen!" Kurt chided. "Amanda! Stop it! What's got into you?"  
Amanda was still fuming, "Skinny McBitchlet, over here, ruined *our*  
desk. You know, the one we share?"  
"I like, didn't see your name on it anywhere, Tubby McLard!"  
"You did too, you little ho'! It had 'loves' in between them!"  
"Amanda, stop that. Please. It isn't you." Kurt held her hand in both  
of his and, to Kitty's infinite surprise, Amanda started crying.  
"...she ruined *our* desk," she whimpered. "I was gonna do flowers  
around the heart and she said I looked like a man..."  
Kurt hugged her. "Shhh... shhh... It's only graffitti. It's not as  
important as you being happy, ja?" He kissed her face. "*I* know you're  
a woman. A *real* woman. That should be enough, nein?"  
Kitty stormed up to the counter and ordered a salad and some skim  
milk. _Skinny McBitchlet!_ She fumed as she paid for her meal. _I'll  
'Skinny McBitchlet' *her*! She's just jealous 'cause I'm *perfect* and  
she's just a fat hippo of an elephant *bitch* that *my* Kurt is  
hopelessly in love with._  
Waitasecond...  
What if--?  
No. Kitty wasn't the jealous type. Just because Kurt dropped her like  
a hot potato for that *cow* didn't mean that she, Kitty Pryde, was  
suffering from a major bout of sour grapes. Of course it didn't. She was  
just - used to his company or something.  
It was *his* stupid fault anyway. For being such a gentle, kind,  
considerate and above all *passionate* person with *her*, while she just  
seemed to be Lance's tag-along.  
Speaking of whom... Kitty settled into a seat next to him. "Like, hi,"  
she said, pretending cheer.  
"Hey, pretty-Kitty," he smiled, at least. But there was no hug. No  
kiss. No sneaky little under-the-table hand games. He went back to his  
conversation with the rest of the Brotherhood.  
"Lance? Am I like, unattractive?"  
"*Wooo*!" Said Tabitha.  
"Someone's dropped a bomb," said Fred.  
Todd did a long, descending whistle, and Pietro did the explosion.  
"Shut up," said Lance. "What's the matter, Kitty? Someone tell you you  
looked bad?"  
Kitty sniffed. "Not 'xactly..." tears filled up her eyes.  
Todd sighed. "Whup. There we go. She's PMSing again, yo."  
Tabitha whacked him on the back of his head.  
She was too late. Kitty was already in hysterical-babble mode.  
  
Kurt stared over at the table Kitty shared with Lance. Watching her  
cry from afar. He couldn't help but feel sad in sympathy.  
"You're still kinda hung up on her, aren't you?" Amanda murmured in  
his ear.  
Kurt leaned against her shoulder and sighed. "I can't help but think  
she's made a bad choice in Lance. He's bad for her."  
"Hey, it's her choice, right?" Amanda gave him a hug, and tickled his  
hidden tail. "Come on. You were telling me how she did nothing but run  
screaming from you every time you even *winked* at her. The way I figure  
it, it's her loss."  
"I know, liebe," he snuggled into her embrace. Ah, bliss. "I just  
don't want to see her hurt."  
"You're such a sweetie," she kissed him. "But you can't make her  
choices for her. She'll learn the hard way. We can help her pick up the  
pieces when it all goes bad."  
"But I don't want to," he protested. "I don't want it to go bad. I  
wish her every happiness; I do."  
Amanda 'awww'ed. "Come on, sweetheart. Let her go. She can have her  
sour grapes, but we got each other, right?"  
"Ja," Kurt instantly warmed to her. "We have each other." He kissed  
his way along her neck and nuzzled her hair with a purr, revelling anew  
in how squeezable she was.  
"Kurt, you're tickling..." Amanda giggled.  
"Want me to stop?"  
"*No*."  
"Just checking."  
  
Kitty sighed. After the obligatory concilliatory hug, Lance had all  
but forgotten her so he could talk to 'the guys'. Across the way, Kurt  
and Amanda were in an interesting tangle across two chairs. The others  
had to tap him on the shoulder to get his attention.  
_Look at them. They have to be so perfect for each other. And he has  
to devote all of his attention to her. Just the other day, he had to  
appologise for needing to do an assignment..._ Lance didn't 'do' many  
assignments, and preferred instead to show Kitty how much difficulty he  
was having with it, asking her 'help' and then slipping off for a  
smoke.  
Lance and the rest of the Brotherhood left her behind, again, with her  
doing their homework for them.  
_Face it, Pryde, you missed the boat. Big time._  
"Hey," said Tabitha. She'd come back for who knew what reason. "Know  
how you feel. Blue left me high and dry, too."  
"You left *him* hanging first, you know," said Kitty.  
"Eh, and you treated him like an old coat, so what. I'm just trying to  
help out."  
"Like how?"  
"How's about a little revenge? Boom-boom style..."  
  
It was poetry in motion, the way her energy-bomb arced through the air  
to land squarely in the gigantic heap of pasta bolognaise bake and fries  
that they were sharing. And, with perfect timing, it erupted just as  
they were turning back to it. They were covered in calories. It was  
beautiful.  
_HA!_ Kitty thought, pretending innocense with Tabitha. _That'll show  
*them*._ For what, she couldn't precisely tell, but it felt immensely  
better to have Kurt looking like the pig she thought he was.  
She didn't even care that the whole school was laughing at them. They  
got what they deserved for making her feel scummy even though she was in  
love. They didn't have any right whatsoever to be perfectly happy while  
she and Lance were sort of - just barely getting along.  
So there.  
  
This *had* to be one for her journal. A nice couple, otherwise, were  
dripping food remnants on the linoleum. The girl was in hysterics.  
"Someone threw a cherry bomb into our lunch," said the boy,  
unrecognisable but for his German accent. There was only one German kid  
in Bayville High - Kurt Wagner. "I think I might have to take her home.  
You know - shock and everything."  
"You could take some cleaning up, too," said Delores. She wrote the  
relevant details down in the book and got out a roll of paper towels -  
always handy with those boarding-school kids around. "Here. This should  
help get off the worst of it."  
The girl managed something that could have been, "My new dress" or  
"Oh, the stress" or "I'm a mess" and dissolved into hysteria again.  
"Easy, honey," soothed Delores. "It isn't the end of the world. Give  
everyone a week and this'll be old news."  
Kurt gently wiped her face clean. "There. See? You'll be better in no  
time. Let me get your hair."  
"You're a mess, too," murmured the girl, grabbing another paper towel  
to fix him. "This must be awful for you. Your poor --"  
"Shh, liebe. Aussenseiter."  
"Hm," she towelled his face off. "I keep forgetting. You're always you  
to me."  
Delores rolled her eyes. Kids in love. They only made sense to each  
other.  
  
"You *can* borrow my shower, you know," said Amanda.  
Kurt had his eyes tight shut and his hands tight around his tail,  
wrists pressing into his knees. "I-I-I-I t-tend to think of that as more  
of an 'engagement' thing, r-really."  
Amanda giggled as she finished up her shower. "Ah, my poor Fuzzy.  
You're so proper."  
Kurt just tried to swallow and not think of Amanda's nakedness. It  
didn't matter *how* many locked doors were between the two of them, she  
was temptation.  
"Ta da!" She was back in the lounge room, where he'd been sitting  
prim. He could hear the difference. "Open your eyes, silly. It's safe."  
He did. "You're gorgeous," he whispered.  
Amanda pounced on him. "You keep telling me that." 


	2. Part 2

Part 2 ^_^  
  
Kurt was all for rough-and-tumble, tickling games and generic  
fondling. He was an enthusiastic participant and a fantastically  
flamboyant cheat. Where he fell over was in certain areas of public  
indecency, and where the borderline was between acceptable and  
unacceptable skin display.  
It came with hanging around centaurs, really, the state of mind in  
which taking one's shirt off was the equivalent of stripping naked.  
Well, for centaurs, it *was*; and since Kurt's oldest and best friend  
happened to have four feet and metal shoes, a lot of that mind-set had  
rubbed off on him.  
Thus, he practically jumped out of his skin when Amanda tried to take  
his overshirt off him.  
"Hey! Whoah! This isn't even a second date!"  
"What the--?" Amanda's face twisted into amused confusion. "Is this  
some German thing?"  
Kurt hugged his overshirt back on, trying not to look too shocked or  
scared. "Um. It's more of a - Schwartzwald thing."  
Amanda's lips moved for a second and she translated the word in her  
head. "Black Forest? What's with the Black Forest?" She made herself  
comfortable.  
"That's where my home town is. There's a lot of little places in there  
that people don't know about. Especially the Geisselthal."  
Amanda didn't make any 'elves in the Black Forest' cracks, and just  
went into listening mode. "Go on," she prompted.  
This was the bit people never believed. "Well... That's where the  
centaurs live. Most of them, anyway. There's other little communities  
scattered all over the mountains, here and there. There are villages,  
practically right next door to one another; one has centaurs living with  
them, and the other's thinking that they're a myth. That's how it works  
in the Schwartzwald... A lot of people who live there are -ah- really  
open-minded about --" he fiddled with his tridactyl hands. "-- unusual  
things."  
"Really? Real live centaurs? I mean, my granddaddy told a story about  
this centaur he met in the middle of no-man's-land during the war; but I  
always thought he was bullshitting me..."  
"Blond hair? Black hindquarters?" He stood and gestured with his hand.  
"About so high?"  
"Kinda *sounds* like the guy granddaddy said he met..."  
"That was Stinz! The Black Major! He's something of a war hero, back  
home." Kurt puffed himself up. "I actually got to meet him, you know."  
"He's really real? Damn. I can hear granddaddy singing the 'I told you  
so' song from here..."  
Kurt had to laugh. "Always trust in the stories of your elders. You  
never know when proof's going to come."  
Amanda just took his temperature. "You sure you're all right, fuzzy-  
darling? It's been twenty minutes and you haven't tried to hug me,  
yet."  
Kurt gestured at his clothes with a helpless grin. "I'm covered in  
sauce. I really should get back to the Institute and clean up."  
"Can I come with?"  
"Ach, you might as well. Herr Professor wants to scope you out,  
anyway. Would you believe they gave me the third degree when I got back  
after the dance?"  
Amanda laughed as she got up. "I can believe it. We went for a three-  
hour 'little walk' as I recall..."  
He took her hand in the crook of his arm. "Shall we, liebe?"  
  
It was two 'hops' to the Institute, and that sort of thing always left  
her dizzy and disoriented. She didn't even get a glimpse of the decor,  
much preferring to sit carefully wherever Kurt guided her and shut her  
eyes until the rest of the world stopped doing somersaults.  
"Terribly sorry," he was saying. "I've been having that effect on  
people, lately. I *try* to take the brunt of the trip, honest. Are you  
hurt?"  
"No, sweetheart," Amanda soothed. "Just slightly off-colour. 'M  
feeling *verrrrry* green, right now..."  
"Ach. Poor liebe. Just breathe deep, ja? It should wear off in a  
moment or two. I hope." He sounded very afraid, incredibly worried. His  
lovely, fuzzy hands repeatedly petted hers. It gave her something to  
focus on. Something very pleasant. Amanda murmured and smiled. She risked  
opening her eyes, and found his golden ones staring at her in concern.  
"See?" she said. "Nothing to be worried about, love."  
He purred when she stroked his face. "Sehr gut. I never want to hurt  
anyone."  
"Good *grief*," said a giant blue ape-like creature. "What happened  
here?"  
"Uh..." said Amanda.  
Kurt was grinning. "That's Hank. We're not even remotely related. We  
checked."  
"Blue fur just happens to be 'in' around here," joked Hank.  
"Waitaminute..." Amanda held up a finger, "you sound almost exactly like --"  
"Mr McCoy?" Hank smiled. "The chemistry and gym teacher who  
mysteriously disappeared a while back?"  
"*Whoah*! So Principal Kelly *didn't* slip his mind... You *did* turn  
into something else. But - you don't *seem* like a monster."  
There was a mutual sigh from both blue mutants.  
"Once again, Herr Kelly has some facts right, but the conclusions all  
wrong."  
Hank took over. "I suffered a spontaneous physical mutation - one that  
I'd been inhibiting artificially for a while."  
"That covers the rumour about controlled substances," chirped Kurt.  
Hank glared at him. "*Thank* you." He cleared his throat. "The  
abruptness and shock of my physical transformation had a momentary  
effect on my psyche."  
"He went nuts for a while," Kurt translated.  
Hank ignored him. "*But*... As you can see, I'm perfectly under  
control, now, and a permanent member of the staff here at the  
Institute."  
"And that explains the rumours about Bigfoot roaming Bayville."  
"Which reminds me," said Hank. "There's been another 'Bayville Demon'  
sighting..."  
Kurt grinned and managed a nervous giggle. "How can you be sure it was  
me?"  
The inquiry was held off by the arrival of Professor Xavier. He had an  
amused expression on his face. "Oh dear. Another demonstration by Boom-  
Boom?"  
"At least she didn't destroy any property, this time, ja? It was only  
our lunch."  
"Go get cleaned up," sighed the Professor. "I'll have a talk with  
Amanda."  
"See you later, liebchen," Kurt waved goodbye, and {Bamf!} he was  
gone.  
  
Xavier came to a stop facing Amanda. "Shall we talk about your -  
intentions - towards Kurt?"  
Amanda giggled. "You sound like a Fifties Sitcom Dad talking about a  
daughter... Is everyone around here old-fashioned or what?"  
"Sorry. It's just that Kurt's already had two - somewhat rocky  
relationships in his time here. He may pretend to bounce back, but," he  
tapped his head. "I know what's going on on the inside, as it were."  
"Kurt and I already talked about that," said Amanda. "Well... He  
babbled a lot and I listened. He said I'm the first person he hadn't  
frightened."  
"And you neglected to tell him the truth."  
Amanda startled. The memories had been right on top of her mind. Had  
he just picked those thoughts out of her head?  
"Yes. I'm a telepath. I do try not to -er- 'head hop', but some  
thoughts and feelings tend to broadcast themselves. For example, Kurt  
trusts you implicitly. Whole-heartedly."  
Once again, that slight guilt gnawed at her. "I'll try my best never  
to break that trust, sir, but -- the truth would only hurt him. And I  
don't want to do that."  
"Nevertheless, you were scared."  
"Only for a handful of seconds," Amanda defended. "It *is* kind of a  
shock, you know."  
He knew, only too well. If it wasn't for cerebro's extrapolation  
program, he would have been shocked, too. Just the relief from Kurt at  
finding another individual who just treated him like a person instead of  
a - he hated the word - freak; just the relief had all but bowled Xavier  
over. He'd wanted to protect the boy ever since.  
"I can understand," said Xavier. "But I still have to ask. What sort  
of future do you see with him?"  
  
Kurt brushed down again, taking care to smooth down every whorl or  
crinkle in his fur. Amanda loved to touch his fur, so of course he had  
to make doubly sure it felt nice for her, going over himself twice with  
the stiff brush before the final, purely cosmetic, smooth-down with the  
soft brush.  
And besides, it made him feel great.  
So what if the only other people who touched his fur and liked it were  
thousands of miles away? He had someone here who was just as important  
to him. Someone who actually listened to his stories of home with an  
open mind. Someone with a sense of wonder.  
Everything else was in the wash, so he threw on a disreputable pair of  
old jeans. The pair he used to wear when helping the circus set up. The  
pair that didn't matter if anything happened to them, because it already  
had. Repeatedly. He grabbed a muscle-shirt he usually wore during work-  
outs and squeezed into it before heading down to where he'd left  
Amanda.  
Maybe the Professor had finished interrogating her by now.  
_You can relax,_ said the Professor's voice in his head. _Your  
girlfriend is quite safe from me._  
Kurt grinned at his choice of words. His girlfriend. Cool. Amanda had  
the Professor's personal seal of approval.  
She was smiling when he came in, and smiled even bigger after she gave  
him a once-over with her eyes.  
"Sorry about the tatty clothes. It's wash day today. Mein entire  
wardrobe is currently in the rinse cycle."  
"*Wow*," said Amanda. "And you said *I* was gorgeous..."  
Then she pounced on him again. 


	3. Part 3

Part 3 ^_^  
  
Kitty was feeling particularly pleased with herself. She hadn't seen  
hide nor hair of DragManda or Kurt since lunch. They were *so*  
humiliated, she doubted that the whale had stopped crying, yet. And she  
knew for a fact that Kurt hated it when girls cried. She'd heard him say  
so.  
Okay, so their relationship had gone from cloyingly clingy to rocky in  
the space of one afternoon. A few more little snips of sabotage and she  
could pick Kurt up on the rebound and things would be back to *normal*.  
The TV was already on when she came into the rec. room. One of Kurt's  
favourite shows, _Red Dwarf_, was playing at a low volume. Kitty could  
see his tail-tip and one foot dangling out from the side.  
_Aw... He must have fallen asleep watching 'feel better' TV..._ Kitty  
snuck up from behind and prepared to watch him snoozing for a while.  
He was purring. A steady, low-throated rumble that oscillated in the  
same rhythm as his breathing. He'd deny he was doing it, even if a whole  
roomful of people heard him; and everyone sort of allowed him the  
illusion. Just because he *could* do bizarre things with his voice  
didn't mean that he wanted to, or that he wanted to show it off. It was  
just one of the things he was sensitive about.  
Kurt wasn't asleep, though. And he wasn't alone.  
Amanda was lying with him on the couch, her back snuggled up against  
his front. His top arm embraced her while the lower one helped pillow  
her head.  
They were smiling like - like --  
_Oh no... They wouldn't. The Professor wouldn't let it happen._  
Like they just had sex...  
And yet - they weren't mussed up. Their clothes were neatly on and  
didn't have that sort of post-tryst wrinkle to them, and - and... And  
the outfit Kurt had on was like, totally *HOT*.  
Righteous indignation flared up again. How dare that floozy still be  
with *her* Kurt? "Just *what* have you two been doing all afternoon?"  
she yelled, even though she wasn't prepared for what she *knew* the  
answer would be. The way they couldn't keep their hands off each other  
made it pretty plain what they'd been up to.  
"Um," said Amanda. "Let's see... Watching TV and snacking, mostly. You  
guys have *the* best kitchen to cook in."  
Kurt still had that cat-and-the-canary grin. "Amanda is a wonderful  
cook," he said, squeezing her ample form. "I'm blessed."  
Amanda giggled. "I think *somebody* had a little too much of my  
SuperBowl Supreme Soup..."  
"Never! There's no such thing."  
Kitty's jaw dropped. _They're deeper in love than ever! *How*?_  
"Yes, there is," Amanda sat up so she could play with Kurt's taught,  
trim, and slightly overfed body. She sneaked a hand under his shirt to  
pet his fur. "I swear, you're just like a big cat, sometimes. All I have  
to do is feed you and rub your tummy..."  
Kurt's purr went up in volume. If anyone *else* had compared him to an  
animal, there would have been a big fight about it. For a week. Amanda  
did it and he just *purred*. He stretched and sighed, then wrapped  
himself around the interloper with a seductive smile. "Marry me," he  
said.  
"Hmmmm... Too early, love. We haven't even gone on a second date."  
"Ach! I almost forgot. Stay right there, liebchen." He peeled himself  
off her and 'ported away. In a second, and another cloud of sulphurous  
smoke, he was back with a little box. It had a bow on it.  
"*Ku-urt*... What's the occasion?"  
"Happy I-Love-You Day."  
That was the last straw. Kitty burst out crying and ran from the room.  
That could have been her. She could have been deliriously happy in his  
arms, getting care and attention for just being with him. Snuggling up  
against blue fur was a small price to pay for that much love; but when  
it was feely available, she'd spurned it. In spades.  
Kitty fell onto her bed and cried her eyes out.  
  
Back in the rec. room, Amanda was stunned.  
"Whoah," said Kurt. "You'd better go see what that's about, ja? I have  
a feeling it's a girl thing."  
"*I* had the feeling that she doesn't like me," said Amanda. "If I go  
try to console her, she's gonna *throw* stuff at me."  
"If I went, she'd kill me," Kurt said. "I'll stand by in the hall,  
okay? If you get into trouble, I'll pop in and pop you out. Like that,"  
he snapped his fingers. "Just one trip so you don't get dizzy."  
She put his arm in his. "I don't know *how* you talk people into these  
things..."  
"It's my roguish good looks," he said with a smirk. "Gets them every  
time."  
"Certainly got me," said Amanda. 


	4. Part 4

Part 4 ^_^  
  
"Hey," someone said in a traditional gentle voice. The sort of voice  
that said, "Look, I know you're upset, and I don't want you to be upset  
with me, but I know that you *are*, but I'm still going to try and  
comfort you 'cause we're all girls together and you can just deal with  
it."  
Kitty threw a pillow at her. "Go 'way DragManda!"  
"Oh, grow up, for Christ's sake!" Amanda threw the pillow back. "It's  
your own stupid fault, so don't you *dare* start calling me names!"  
"It is *not* my fault!" Kitty shrieked, tears streaming own her face.  
"It's your stupid fault you asked him to the stupid dance and you're too  
stupid to be scared of 'im and he loves you with everything he's got and  
it's not fai-ha-ha-hairrrr..." She collapsed back into hysterics.  
Stupid fat Amanda didn't go away. She sat herself beside her and  
wrapped an arm around Kitty's shoulder. She just sat there with her  
stupid ginormous-sized boobs and her stupid big butt and her stupid  
perfect hair being stupidly supportive and it *really* wasn't fair.  
Why did everyone in the whole world have to be so nice when she was so  
bitchy?  
Why didn't Lance follow their example?  
Why wasn't Lance nice to her?  
*Why* had she been so blind about Kurt for so *long*?  
Why couldn't life give her a second chance?  
She *wanted* one...  
"Hey," said Amanda. "Hey. Shhh. 'S gonna be okay, little girl. You  
just gotta wake up to yourself, that's all. Soon as you're awake, you  
can sort your life out instead of blaming people. Sound okay?"  
Kitty's crying shuddered to something of a halt. "It's not *fair*,"  
she repeated. "I like Lance an' he doesn' like me back an' you two have  
to just go around being *perfect* for each other and it was all okay  
when Kurt had no-one 'cause he was still chasing me and I felt *pretty*  
when he was chasing me..."  
"Oh boy," sighed Amanda. "First crush, right?"  
Kitty nodded. "Mmm..."  
"Is this the same Lance that tried to kill you, your friends and your  
family?"  
"Mmm-mm..." she sniffed, nodding again. "But he's like, so *cute*."  
"Kurt is cute. Scott Summers is cute. That little Jamie kid is as cute  
as a button. Lance Alvers is just a pretty scumsucker."  
"He is *not*..."  
"Does he hug you for no good reason apart from the fact that he loves  
you?"  
"...no..."  
"Does he kiss you?"  
"...no..." Kitty felt she had to supply more. "Not that I'd like, want  
him to. He like, *smokes*. He smells."  
"Good call," said Amanda. "Kissing a smoker's like licking an  
ashtray."  
"*Eeeewwwww*..."  
"*Any*way. Does Lance want to spend time out with you?"  
"Not really. It's like, the guys the whole time. Talk to the guys. Pay  
attention to the guys. Sort the guys out. It's only when he like, makes  
a date that I like, have half a chance."  
"Don't tell me, lemme guess... Sometimes the guys 'tag along',  
right?"  
"Yeah."  
"Sounds to me like a scumsucker. All he has to do to be a complete one  
is get you to do his homework for him and try to 'score' with you in his  
car."  
Kitty hung her head. God, she was such a total dope. She started  
crying again.  
"Aw, geez... He didn't, did he?"  
"...mmm..."  
"Shit," said Amanda. "You've hooked up with a complete and total  
scumsucker. Now, I don't *care* how good he looks with his shirt off,  
you've gotta dump his ass."  
"But I *like* him..." Kitty managed. "I just want us to be happy..."  
"It just doesn't make sense to stay with him, girl," said Amanda.  
"When he's done using you, he's just going to throw you away. And he  
won't particularly care about your feelings, then, either."  
"But--"  
"Has he got *one* redeeming feature besides his looks?"  
"Um," said Kitty. She was trying to think. What did she like about him  
besides how much of a rebel he was? How gorgeous he looked? "Oh, God;  
I'm shallow..."  
Amanda harrumphed. "Judging by the feel of things, he was going to  
threaten to leave you because you were getting 'high maintenance' or  
some other scumsucker excuse."  
Kitty bit her lip. He'd already done that when he bailed on the X-  
men.  
  
Outside in the hall, Kurt listened. He knew it was quasi-wrong, but he  
had promised Amanda that he'd be there for her, just in case. And a  
promise was a promise.  
He had to admit, he *was* shocked when he heard Amanda yell at Kitty,  
but it seemed to be going better since she had. Kurt would never have  
done such a thing. He'd have helped her make excuses for Lance. Now,  
listening to what Amanda said, he wished he hadn't helped her do so  
before.  
But he loved her smile when she was happy, no matter what the source  
of that happiness.  
He did hate it when girls cried. It always made him want to do  
something destructive and vengeful, when he knew that was against his  
nature. So on the outside, he'd comfort and cheer and, if the lady  
accepted it, feed her; while on the inside, a monster wanted to get  
out.  
He hated the monster within. Vengeful, slavering beast that it was. If  
anything actually happened to those he held dear, he didn't know if he  
could control it.  
_Maybe I should let it loose at Lance. Teach him a lesson in being  
civil to a lady he desires. Take a pound of flesh for every tear she  
shed..._ He entertained the mental imagery for a while. Kurt,  
victorious, over Lance's wounded form. The problem was that Kitty was  
weeping for Lance, not in joy that her problems were over.  
_Stupid brain,_ he thought at it. _Even you're against me._ Probably  
just as well. He didn't want any blood on his hands. He certainly didn't  
want that vile creature out and hurting people until there weren't any  
left.  
*Now* his brain decided to entertain him with a vision of himself in a  
zoo. Replete with an educational plaque about his capture.  
_Stop feeling sorry for yourself,_ he scolded. _There are people who  
love you back, you know. People who accept me for who I am._ He smiled.  
He hadn't thought that would happen outside of Heirelgart, but it had.  
"Sure I was scared," said Amanda, "but only for a little while. I  
guess I was more curious than anything else. But - then I realised that  
I loved him, too. The way he really *is* is *way* more attractive than  
his holoself. At least, that's my humble opinion."  
"But - he's so - *blue*."  
"Blue's a good colour," said Amanda. "It goes with just about  
everything."  
Kurt grinned. That was one of his cracks. The sort of thing he tossed  
off when he felt a little ugly and wanted to cheer himself up. He knew  
Amanda wasn't that shallow, so it was a double joke.  
He'd have to tickle her, though, as a form of vengeance.  
Maybe a little chase-fight, too. 


	5. Part 5

Part 5 ^_^  
  
Kitty decided that if Amanda could be nice to her, the least she could  
do was be nice back. She returned the hug, briefly, and said, "Sorry I  
called you names. I guess I was like, jealous and stuff." _Jealous of  
you and my fuzzy-elf. Jealous of you guys being happy. Jealous of all  
the fun you have._ "Um. You wanna like, go on a diet with me?"  
Amanda laughed. "I don't *need* to diet."  
"Not wanting to sound rude? But -um- you're not exactly a size  
eight..."  
She rolled her eyes. "Kitty, size fourteen does not equal 'fat'.  
Likewise, size eight does not equal 'beautiful'. I'm a healthy weight  
for my height. And -um- not wanting to sound rude? You're not."  
"Are you calling me fat?"  
"No, hon. You're frighteningly thin," she held Kitty's hand. "Knowing  
Kurt, I'm sure he's tried to sidle up to telling you as much."  
"Sort of," Kitty admitted. "He kept like, trying to feed me all  
*sorts* of gross stuff. I mean calorie-a-thon, here."  
Amanda giggled. "He does kinda want to feed people. It's his  
metabolism, I swear. Food's so important to him, so he wants to make  
sure those he loves are fed, too. It's kinda sweet when you think about  
it."  
"Guess," Kitty allowed.  
"Come on. I have a new diet for you. It's called the 'healthy diet'.  
There's this thing called the food pyramid, you see, and--"  
"Wiseass," Kitty punched her, but only a play-punch. "Okay. You guys  
can like, lecture me on nutrition while I like, pork out on chocolate  
ice-cream."  
"It's a date!" said Kurt from outside.  
  
_This is the first day of the rest of your life,_ Kitty chanted inside  
her head. _I do not need him to be me._ Resolute, she walked straight to  
her locker and ignored Lance to within an inch of his life. Much to her  
surprise, she made it all the way to her first class without being asked  
what he'd said.  
Kurt said that was a sure sign that he was paying attention. Guys  
always ask what they'd said, he told her, when they notice that they're  
getting the cold shoulder. Even if it was something they did, or did not  
do.  
_Maybe he's suffering in silence or something,_ she thought as she  
took her seat. _Well, he's not going to get any of *my* sympathy._  
She was too good for him. Yeah. Too good for the scum-sucker.  
  
Lance, meanwhile, was almost completely oblivious. He lived in his own  
private universe where people did what he said and love was something  
that happened when he wasn't too busy doing other stuff. Like cleaning  
his fingernails.  
That was why Kitty made such a convenient girlfriend. She was a  
Freshman while he was a Senior, and that meant that she'd do just about  
anything just for the privalege of his company. And, when push came to  
shove, he could manipulate her into putting out. Eventually. Not right  
now, of course. He didn't want statutory rape charges against him.  
The worst thing about dating girls younger than he was was waiting for  
them to turn eighteen.  
The second-worst thing was paying attention to them. Attention they  
seemed to need like air.  
So, when Kitty walked past his table to sit with the X-geeks at lunch  
that day, he was kind of relieved. He didn't have to stress about  
listening to her daily diatribe. Like he really wanted to hear how  
nauseatingly in love the freakshow was...  
Actually, he kinda felt sorry for Amanda. _Just imagine how desperate  
you'd have to be to want to snuggle up to *that*,_ he thought.  
_*Eeeeeewwwww*..._  
On the cons side, it did mean that he and the guys would have to come  
up with some lame excuse as to why their homework wasn't done, but it  
was worth it. He had a little peace and quiet today. A nice little  
holiday from Kitty's perpetual valley-girl whining.  
  
"Look at him. He's not even like, noticing or like, anything."  
"I *told* you he was a scum-sucker," said Amanda.  
Kurt approached the table, balancing two trays in his arms. He  
carefully set them down, then doled out the plates. The last one was a  
surprise, since it was the first plate that was gently pushed her way  
since he'd found Amanda.  
"And this is for you," he said.  
"What is it?" she said, poking it with a fork.  
"Kosher," Kurt grinned. "I asked specially for it. Turns out there's a  
healthy Jewish community around here, and they stock Kosher meals as a  
matter of course."  
"Um. There's like, meat in here?"  
"Balanced diet, remember?" said Kurt.  
"Meat *is* part of the food pyramid, you know," said Amanda. She then  
noted the disparity between her serving and Kurt's. "Did you have a  
rough morning, sweetie?"  
"*Ja*. One of Logan's surprise drills. Right in the middle of  
*breakfast*."  
Amanda whistled. "I'll bet *you* weren't a happy camper."  
"Neither was anybody in his flight path," said Evan. "He wound up  
choking on a cruller."  
"Rrrrr! Now he's flirting with *Tabby*... *Ew*."  
"Tabitha flirts with anything that stands up to pee," said Ray.  
"Ignore it. The rest of the world does."  
"Hmph," said Kitty. "I am *so* totally putting a stink bomb in his  
like, locker."  
Kurt had his dangerous-mood-smirk on. "Why stop at a stink bomb?" he  
asked.  
"*Uh*-oh..." Evan scooched away. "I'm *not* going to be involved.  
Whatever it is, count me out. There is *no* way I am helping you guys.  
Never. At least, never again."  
Amanda was smirking, too. "You know," she said, "if I didn't trust you  
implicitly, I'd start thinking you were dallying with Kitty behind my  
back..."  
"Good thing I'm trustworthy, ja?" He kissed his way up her arm and  
settled in for an olympic-style neck-nuzzle.  
"Stop that," Amanda giggled. "You need to eat, too."  
Kitty tried the Kosher meal. It was actually quite nice. And she  
didn't feel *too* evil after eating meat. Maybe Kurt, Amanda and her gym  
teacher had a point.  
  
That afternoon, Lance had to get some stuff out of his locker. He'd  
been having a good day, right up until that point. All he really  
recalled of the actual event was the sight of something coming at him at  
warp nine and the smell of several dead skunks permeating the air.  
There was a noise that was best described as, {Pbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpblth!}  
as approximately two kilos of noodles hit his head, and the stench of a  
mega-stink bomb began to pervade the atmosphere.  
Lance took a deep breath - something of a mistake, really - and  
yelled, "*PIETRO*!"  
Everyone else just laughed.  
It was hours later that he found the little note taped to his locker  
door. After he'd finally extracted a wet, gooshy noodle from his left  
ear. It read, in Kitty's neat handwriting, "Congratulations! You've been  
dropped! So long, loser."  
Oh, *fab*... 


	6. Part 6

Part 6 ^_^  
  
"BWA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"  
"Shut up!" Lance protested.  
"Loser man! Loser man! Can do anything a loser can," sang Pietro as he  
repeatedly zipped out of range. "Loses girls, any size. Gets a pussy-  
whippin' 'cause he ain't fly. Look-ooooooouuuuut, here comes the loser  
maaaannnnnn..."  
"Dunno which is more frightning, yo," said Todd. "The fact that he  
knows that song, or the fact that he just made up those words."  
"Knock it off," ordered Fred. "The guy's just had his heart broken."  
"And his clothes stinked up, and a head full o' noodles, yo," Todd  
helpfully supplied.  
"Eh," said Tabby, who was filing her nails. "Watch me care."  
"What's *that* supposed to mean?" said Fred.  
Pietro went back to singing the 'loser man' song.  
"It *means* that mudslide bought this on himself," said Tabby.  
"Everything he gets from now on is *everything* he deserves. Treat a  
girl like shit, she gets back at ya."  
Someone knocked on the door, and the Brothrhood temporarily pretended  
normalicy while Lance answered the door.  
"Package for Mister Alvers," said the Fed Ex guy.  
Lance signed for it and bought it in.  
"We didn't order nuthin'," said Fred.  
"Yo, but anythin' we can get fo' free is a bonus," said Todd. "What's  
in it? Open it up, yo."  
"No return address," noted Pietro. "Interesting. You sure it isn't a  
bomb?"  
"Nobody does that any more, Pie-pie," said Tabby, who was still filing  
her nails on the couch. "Bombs are passe. Everybody who's *any*body is  
sending Anthrax."  
"Cute," said Lance, and cut the gaff holding the box closed.  
{Pbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpblth!} Half the room was coated in  
rancid noodles and discarded fish parts.  
Tabitha, shielded by the couch, looked at the mess. "You *really*  
pissed her off, Mudslide. If I was you, I'd do some major league sucking  
up. And *now*."  
  
{Ring ring}  
"If that's Lance, I'm not home!"  
Kurt rolled his eyes. Trust Kitty to use the rest of the Institute to  
screen her calls. They really should get caller ID, one of these days.  
He picked it up. "Hallo. Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters. Can  
you be helped?"  
"Fuck off, freakshow," said the voice on the other end.  
"Hello, *Laaaaaannce*," he said, remaining cheery. "Du bist eine  
bloede Kartoffel."  
"I *said* fuck off. Put Kitty on. *Now*."  
"Er. I think Kitty just left," he said, watching Kitty make frantic  
no-no motions at him from the common room. From the looks of things,  
another email home was being interrupted. "She said something about a  
new boyfriend, I think."  
That earned him a thumbs-up from Kitty.  
"Her only boyfriend is *me*," said Lance. "And I *know* she's there  
because she tells me *everything*! Now put her on, or I'll rock you."  
Yawn. Deliberately loud, of course, so that Lance could hear it.  
"Sorry, tremor-king, but she really isn't here. There's only *one* kitty  
here, right now, and she doesn't want to talk to you either. Isn't that  
right, kitty?" he said, and then imitated a few 'meow's down the phone  
line.  
Kitty was holding her laughter in with both hands. Logan, who'd been  
hiding behind a newspaper, just glared at him with a raised eyebrow.  
Kurt told him who was on the 'phone with a simple loser salute and a  
pointing finger.  
Lance, meanwhile, was coming up with a very educational string of  
curses. Most of them would be impossible, even with years of training in  
the Tantric Arts.  
Logan got up and took the 'phone from Kurt. "Listen up, bub," he  
growled. "Half-pint ain't home. And she ain't gonna *be* home whenever  
you call. Got it?" There was a pause, and a slight rumbling of the  
ground. "You even *try*, and I'll see you find out what your own spleen  
looks like." He put the 'phone down and faked a look of puzzlement. "He  
hung up on me. Wonder why..."  
  
"Fuck." Lance slammed the 'phone down.  
"Loser man! Loser man! Can do anything a --"  
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" {...rrrrrrrrrrrummmmmmmblllle...}  
"I'llbequiet," Pietro sat on the carpet - which was something of a  
mistake - and put both hands over his mouth.  
"I'll - just be hiding in the back yard," said Todd as he backed away.  
Tabitha was still filing her nails. "Don't tell me, let me guess. She  
ain't home."  
Fred offered a packet of tylenol. "You really aughta quit gettin'  
angry, you know," he said. "This house ain't gonna hold up to much more  
of that."  
Lance took the tylenol, but ignored the advice. "How the heck did this  
*happen*?"  
"Well... lemme see," Tabitha began ticking off numbers on her fingers.  
"You treated her like shit, you made her do all our homework, you bought  
Quickie along on your dates, you blew her off - repeatedly. Uh... You  
told her she looked like a skank when she was trying out a new 'do, you  
said her butt looked big in those jeans, you bought *Todd* along on your  
dates, you never hugged her..."  
"Okay, okay, okay, I get the point. Shut up."  
"Face it, mudslide. You've dug yourself deep."  
"Great. So how do I dig myself back out again?"  
"Two words: Peace offerings."  
  
"What's that?" said Kitty as Rogue gave her a parcel.  
"It's a package from Lance," said Rogue. "Whatever's in there, it  
ain't my idea. They had to beg on their *knees* before I even got  
interested in passin' that along."  
"You know what's like, in it?"  
"*No*. I don't pry."  
Kitty risked opening the box to find some cheap plastic jewelery. It  
wouldn't have cost fifty cents at a dollar shop. "Do you like, know if  
Kurt's still around? I like, need his help to return this to sender."  
  
{PBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBLTH!}  
The foul-smelling concoction dripped slowly off the ceiling, the  
furniture, and the Brotherhood, who had been clustered around the  
parcel.  
"You know," said Tabby. "I think we should take this as a subtle  
hint."  
"You *think*?" said Lance.  
"Hey, there's som'pin else in here," Todd fished it out, and opened the  
box. "Aw, look, it's them cheap-ass earrings you bought her. And a  
widdle poem."  
Pietro took it and read it. "Roses are red/ And now so are you/ But I  
made it okay/ Your smell matches you!"  
"Cute." A fish head from the last explosion parted company with the  
roof and landed on Lance's head. "*Reeeeeeeeeeal* cute."  
"You know what they say, Mudslide," said Tabby. "Hell hath no fury  
like a woman scorned."  
"They say that?" said Fred.  
"Yep," Tabby grinned. "They also say -- DIBS ON THE BATHROOM!" and she  
sped towards it.  
"Hey!"   
"No fair!"  
"You use up all the hot water!" 


	7. Part 7

Part 7 ^_^  
  
"Lieber Gott, it's hot..."  
"Awww, poor baby," said Amanda.  
"Did we like, *have* to bring him to the beach?" Kitty complained.  
"Have another ice cube." Amanda plucked one from a nearby bucket and  
popped it in his mouth.  
"Mmmm..."  
"You *know* what happens if you leave Kurt alone long enough to get  
really bored," said Scott.  
"Yeah," said Jean, who was busy trying to tan herself. "Last time we  
left him in the Institute by himself, he decided to redecorate. It's  
amazing what you can do with Prisma Colours and four crates of TP."  
"And magic tape," added Scott. "You can't forget the magic tape."  
Amanda laughed. "He must have been *really* bored. Poor darling."  
"I'll be fine in an hour or two," Kurt rasped. "When the heat's off  
the day." Otherwise, he didn't move from his prone position in the shade  
of the smaller umbrella.  
Hank occupied the larger one, also periodically sucking on ice cubes  
that Bobby was too happy to provide.  
Roberto, meanwhile, was soaking up the sunshine for all he was worth  
with a huge grin plastered across his face.  
Everyone was enjoying themselves, more or less. Evan had to have the  
obligatory whinging session about insects, which he promptly forgot once  
he got into boogie-boarding through the waves.  
Rahne was splashing about in her lupine form, repeatedly and  
agressively getting as many people wet as she possibly could.  
Even Amara was shrieking and splashing in the water like an ordinary  
kid.  
_Ah, the heck with it,_ thought Kitty, and raced off her towel and  
into the water.  
At least she wouldn't have to listen to Kurt's weather report.  
  
The fun, for Amanda, started when the heat started going down. Kurt  
surfaced from his near-coma in the shade and began making up for lost  
time. Their tickle-war turned into a game of chase across the dunes of  
Xavier's private beach.  
"Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet!" she mock-screamed, scrurrying  
across the sand.  
Kurt was behind her, bounding across the beach in an easy lope that  
was more of a bounce.  
Kitty was laughing her head off. "Go Pepe LeWagner!"  
Kurt laughed, completely un-winded by the excercise. "Zese women, zey  
love to play 'ard to get, non?" he imitated the cartoon skunk perfectly,  
right down to the ego-stoked smirk, the waggling eyebrows, and the  
little, "Rowr, rowr," before he took off again.  
Amanda laughed so hard that Kurt caught her, and practically nuzzled  
her to death.  
Not that that was a *bad* thing.  
Not at all. 


	8. Part 8

Part 8 ^_^  
  
"Like, Jason! *Hi*..." Kitty giggled and blushed. She'd never tried  
anything like this before. At least, not seriously. All the guys in her  
life had pursued her. "Like, um... how's like, drama club?"  
Jason shrugged. "It's okay, I guess."  
"So like, what are you guys like, doing this time?" One of her hands  
started twirling the end of her ponytail. At least her hair wasn't long  
enough for her to chew it. Not yet, anyway. She'd heard somewhere that  
guys were turned off by that sort of thing.  
"Lots and *lots* of rehearsals," said Jason. "Some brainiac suggested  
Gilbert and Sullivan for this year and everyone's tripping over the  
lyrics. That, and every time you give that Wagner kid a sword, he goes  
*nuts* with the thing..."  
Kitty laughed at the mental picture. "Well, you can like, count  
yourself like, lucky that Maximov or Tolenski aren't like, deciding to  
play."  
Jason gave her a Look. It was the sort of look that had *implications*  
behind it.  
"Like, OmyGod. They didn't."  
"Tolenski and Wagner decided to re-enact a few scenes from _The  
Princess Bride_ all over the auditorium," said Jason. "We're not letting  
either of them near weapons for the rest of the production."  
"Ooops..." _Quick, change the subject._ "So, um. Are you like, doing  
anything this like, Friday night? I thought maybe we could like, catch a  
movie or some junk?"  
"Uh," said Jason. "I think I have some assignment going. It's a real  
toughie. Sorry -er- Kitty, right?"  
"Yeah. That's like, me. Kitty." She smiled and watched him go on his  
way down the school corridor. Then she sighed. The "Er-yourname" had  
been flung at her. Fudge.  
The only thing worse was being mistaken for a friend or - heaven  
forbid - a rival.  
He barely knew she was there.  
Kitty did her level best to ignore Kurt and Amanda's kissing and  
cuddling as she trudged towards her next class.  
Maybe there was someone else.  
Preferably someone who was big enough to knock out Lance if he tried  
anything.  
Or maybe she should forget about the whole status-boyfriend thing and  
go for someone who'd treat her right for a change. Kitty tried to  
picture herself with a geek or a nerd.  
Ew.  
Okay, so she was still majorly shallow. Yet she wanted *Kurt* back,  
not exactly for herself, because if he and Amanda broke up tomorrow she  
wouldn't even think of moving in on him. She just wanted his attention.  
Not that he exactly *ignored* her, now; but - he just happened to  
devote himself to someone who appreciated the attention.  
Darn it.  
This was the first time in her life that she had to work for love, and  
Kitty didn't like it. It was just so much *easier* when the guy wanted  
her. She hardly had to think about it at all.  
Kitty started eyeing off the guys in her class.  
Loser, loser, loser, disgusting(Todd), loser, gross, sort of okay if  
he got a little help, geek aaaaannnnnd... loser. The geek kinda smiled  
at her as she looked at him. Kitty quickly looked away. She wasn't in  
dire enough straits to consider the geek. Not yet.  
Maybe next class would have someone worthwhile.  
  
"Once again, Herr Wagner, your penmanship plumbs depths of  
illegibility that have yet to be seen equalled."  
Kurt just shrugged. "I can either write neat, or write fast, mein  
Herr. I can't do both."  
"Have you, perhaps, considered changing the grasp on your pen?"  
_Uh oh._ Once again, his hologram's little flaws had him in a corner.  
He could not tell the man that he only *had* three fingers to work with,  
as it would just not go over very well. "I can't," he said. "It's a rare  
condition with a complicated name; but what it does is keep mein fingers  
in twos."  
Herr Dalrymple looked slightly shocked. "Oh. Uh. I'm - terribly sorry.  
I didn't know."  
"Not your fault, mein Herr. I can't pronounce it." He breathed a sigh  
of relief, and then contacted the Professor. _Mein Herr... we may need a  
complicated medical condition to explain why my hologram-hands do what  
they appear to do. You get extra points for difficulty to pronounce._  
He could feel the Professor's raised eyebrow from miles away. _I take  
it someone noticed one of the minor flaws in the program._  
_Ja. We're just lucky I can think on my feet._  
  
Kitty sighed. Loser, loser, white trash, loser, the geek - again,  
sorta cute but gay, way too tall, way too short, and the class fool.  
This time, the geek managed a little wave.  
_Oh God..._ Kitty looked away and tried not to blush. She did *not*  
want a geek as a boyfriend. At least, not yet.  
_And please, God; like, not *ever*..._  
She'd rather go out with the fool, first. At least he'd be able to  
make her laugh.  
  
Seventh heaven. Cloud nine. Over the moon. Kurt surpassed them all  
whenever he was in Amanda's arms. He could just sit and soak up her  
presence forever.  
"Have I mentioned how lucky I am?" he said.  
"Several times, I think," Amanda answered. "But not today."  
"Ah. Does that mean I'm allowed?"  
She kissed him. "Silly elf."  
"I'm so lucky to be with you, meine liebchen." He kissed her back.  
"I'm a *stupid* *POTATO*?"  
Kurt broke the kiss. "Hello, *Laaaaaaannnnce*."  
He ignored that and demanded, "Just what the hell are you *on*,  
freakboy?"  
"What's *this* about?" said Amanda.  
"I called him a 'bloede Kartoffel' on the 'phone," said Kurt.  
"And then Pietro looked it up," said Lance. "What the *fuck* is that  
supposed to mean, anyway? Stupid *potato*?"  
Kurt grinned. "You'll never find out from me," he said, then whispered  
in Amanda's ear, "I never found out what it meant either, liebchen.  
Don't tell."  
Amanda cracked up laughing.  
"This isn't over, freakboy!"  
"Ja, ja, ja; was uberhaupt, du bloede kartoffel."  
Lance's face was priceless. He went off muttering about phrase books  
and potatoes and whatever the hell Germans took as recreational drugs.  
  
Stupid Kurt. Stupid Amanda. Stupid love.  
Kitty stabbed at her salad as she watched them playing together in the  
shade, wishing that that was her the entire time. She found herself  
staring at Jason, and was surprised to find his eyes staring roughly in  
her direction.  
But not *at* her. Not quite.  
He was staring at *Jean*.  
Stupid Jean. Why did *she* have to get all the guys?  
_I hate them all!_ 


	9. Part 9

Part 9 ^_^  
  
There was a note in her locker.  
"Saw U watching me," it said. "My locker #'s 2411 JIC U want 2 drop a  
note. CUL8R. Hubert."  
Oh great. Love notes from a geek.  
Jason was trying to chat up Jean, down the hall.  
Kurt and Amanda looked like they were trying to french.  
Lance passed her by with a, "Geez, Kitty, you're really letting  
yourself go... There's no need to go lesbo over this, y'know."  
*THAT* was the final straw.  
She'd seen Kurt put together those noodle-bombs enough times, by now.  
She could get her own revenge without his involvement. Plus, she had  
free period, so she could get a hall pass to work on an 'assignment'  
really easily.  
  
_Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb,_ Jason felt like pounding his head on  
his locker, but settled for turning the combination lock prior to  
opening it. _I should have known someone like *her* was going out with a  
stupid jock-jerk._ He surrupticiously pulled the last of the wedgie out  
of his butt and opened his locker door.  
All he had to look forward to was another afternoon of walking  
Tolenski through the patter songs and forcibly restraining Wagner from  
getting his hands on a sword.  
{Pbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpblth!}  
Noodles dripped slowly to the floor. His shirt was stained with tomato  
sauce. There was a post-it note in his locker with just one word on it.  
"Jerk!"  
Apparently, he'd offended one of his many admirers. He wished he knew  
who it was.  
  
Hubert Hughes practically skipped towards his locker. He'd actually  
made a *move*! It felt great. Maybe Kitty had said something.  
He eagerly opened his locker door.  
{Pbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpblth!}  
There *was* a note. It said, "Stay away from her, you little creep!"  
It was signed with an L.  
Hubert got a wicked grin on his face. Well, if Lance Alvers wanted to  
play hardball, Hubert could play too. *His* way.  
"Shall we play a game?" he muttered.  
  
Lance opened his locker with some degree of trepidation. All his  
caution, however, was for naught.  
{PBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBLTH!}  
He sighed.  
"Guess she still hates me," he said.  
Then the stink bomb went off.  
  
Jean was chatting aimlessly with Duncan about football (what else?) as  
she opened her locker.  
{Pbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpblth!}  
The noodles showered her, Duncan, and a few of Duncan's cohorts. Jean  
screamed, more out of offense than shock or fright. They were  
everywhere.  
"It's that little German jerk, isn't it?" said Duncan. "This is just  
his style."  
Down the hall, Kurt was approaching his locker with Amanda on his arm.  
He was radiating confusion at the sight of Jean covered in noodles.  
"No, Duncan. You don't *know* he did it," she said, trying to restrain  
him.  
"Who cares? The little jerk's going to pay!"  
  
Kurt put his bag down the instant he saw Matthews approaching, and  
quickly dialled his locker open. He was not in time to put his books  
away.  
"Hey, Duncan," he smiled ingratiatingly. "What happened to you?"  
"Like you don't know," said Duncan. "Fess up or I'll pound you."  
"I had nothing to do with it, I swear! Not that you're going to  
believe me... Can I at least put my books away?" He opened his locker  
door.  
{*PBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBLTH*!!}  
Kurt, hit with the full force of the blast, wound up across the hall,  
dazed and semi-conscious, as well as covered in noodles, practically  
from head to toe. Duncan got a second splattering, as did his cohorts,  
and Amanda was knocked a meter away from her original position. She fell  
flat on her butt from the shock. One of her ears was ringing.  
Kurt coughed up a mouthful of noodles and said, "Ow..."  
  
Kitty laughed to herself in the girl's bathroom. It was not a  
Freshman's giggle. Nor was it the healthy chortle of a nice girl having  
fun. It was the insane, megalomaniac cackle of a girl pushed over the  
edge.  
_That was *GREAT*! No wonder Kurt like, does it all the time!_  
She grinned at the mental imagery of all those flying noodles going  
around.  
_I wonder who else I can zap?_ 


	10. Part 10

Part 10 ^_^  
  
Kitty hummed to herself as she compiled the list. It was a hate list  
of all the people who she figured truly deserved a faceful of noodles.  
It read:  
"Rogue (wakeup music)  
Scott (totally dense)  
Jean (tick)  
Kurt (tick)  
Amanda (she's with Kurt)  
Duncan Matthews (jerk)  
Graydon Creed (jerk's lieutenant)  
Amara (snob)  
Hubert Hughes (tick)  
Lance (always Lance)  
Todd (he smells)  
Ray (just plain nasty)  
Pietro (HATE him)  
Tabitha (bitchy little slut)"  
Kitty twiddled her pencil. That'd like, do for now. She'd compile a  
bigger list for tomorrow.  
  
Revenge was never so much fun.  
Hubert Hughes giggled to himself as he hacked into some top security  
computers. He made sure he was deliberately sloppy so that he'd get  
caught.  
"Intruder; Identify yourself," said the popup window.  
Shyeah. Like anybody actually *fell* for that...  
Hubert typed in, "My name is Lance Alvers and I live at the Bayville  
Brotherhood boarding house. Give me money and I'll go away."  
"Stay where you are," said the popup. "There will be a full  
investigation."  
Hubert logged off and ran for cover. And if *that* didn't work, he'd  
try some credit card fraud.  
  
"Ah. Ah. Ah. Ow..." Kurt removed the umpteenth Q-tip from his ear. It  
came out red.  
"That blood?" said Amanda.  
Kurt sniffed. "Nein. Tomato sauce -er- ketchup."  
"So are you gonna be okay?"  
"I'll let you know when my ear stops ringing," he reached for another  
Q-tip. "Ow... That *hurt*."  
"Aw, my poor li'l elf," Amanda cooed, cleaning sauce out of his hair.  
Kurt worked his jaw. Only he could hear the snapping and popping in  
his right ear. "Ach. I thought she was over you and I. Guess I was  
wrong."  
Amanda had to smile. "Guess I'll have to be careful when opening my  
locker, huh?"  
"Sidestepping would be very useful," said Kurt as he removed another  
Q-tip. "Uh oh."  
"Uh oh, what?"  
"*That's* blood..."  
"I'm 'phoning the Institute."  
  
Kitty hid behind her locker door and watched Scott turning his  
combination. _C'mon you big dope, quit chatting with Tarren and like,  
open the damn door!_  
Scott, meanwhile, dawdled as the lock came undone and, {Pbpbpbpblth!},  
Tarren was covered in the stuff instead of Scott.  
_Okay, call that half points._  
"*Half* points?" said Jean.  
_Oops._  
Behind her, Duncan Matthews openned his locker and got a faceful of  
noodles.  
"THAT WAGNER KID IS GONNA *DIE*!!"  
"By the way," said Jean. "The Professor just told me that the little  
'surprise package' you put in Kurt's locker could have damaged his  
eardrum. They're going to have to check to make sure he hasn't lost  
hearing or balance."  
Kitty swallowed. "I thought he'd like, duck."  
"You're lucky he wasn't facing the locker full on, Kitty," said Jean.  
"If it had hit him face on, he could have been *killed*."  
"Waitasecond," said Matthews. "*This* is the little creep that's been  
doing the noodle bombs?" He would have been fierce if it wasn't for the  
dripping noodles and sauce.  
"Relax, Duncan," said Jean. "She's already grounded until further  
notice. *And* she's going to be paying for all damages."  
"Yeah," Kitty improvised. "Like, send me the bill."  
  
Dark men in serious suits had gathered near his locker.  
"I didn't do anything," said Lance out of pure instinct.  
"Lance Alvers of the Brotherhood Boarding house?" said one of the  
MiBs.  
He sighed. "Yeah."  
"We're investigating a criminal and illegal entry of some secured  
computers. Though we do not believe that you, personally, are involved,  
we must investigate all leads. Unlock your locker, please."  
Lance twirled the combination. "Look, I'm all for co-operation and  
everything, but I haven't got a flying clue about what's going on you  
know?"  
"Step aside from your locker, sir?" said the other MiB.  
"You might wanna be careful when you're opening--"  
{Pbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpbpblth!}  
"--that." He grinned at the sight of noodles covering someone else for  
a change. "I've been having a little girlfriend trouble."  
And then the stink bomb went off. 


	11. Part 11

Part 11 ^_^  
  
"*Wha-at*?" said Lance. He was in handcuffs in the back of an unmarked  
van. He was also extremely confused.  
"Mister Alvers, you do not have to say anything at this time, but  
anything you do not disclose that could become a matter in your trial  
may harm your defence."  
"But I didn't *do* anything! I was having a smoke with Tabby!"  
"When, Mr Alvers?"  
"Whenever!" He was panicking rather heavily. "I swear to God that  
stuff was put there by my ex. I did *NOT* anticipate you guys' coming  
'cause I didn't *do* anything! I can make a computer crash by running  
command.com for chrissakes! I DON'T KNOW ANYTHIIIINNNNNNG!"  
  
Kitty opened her locker under heavy supervision by half her teammates.  
There was another little note in her locker.  
"Don't worry about Mr Alvers," it said. "He won't be bothering you any  
more. Hubert."  
"So what's that about?" asked Jean.  
Kitty put her shields up in a nanosecond and flashed back to the  
little 'suprise' she'd put in Hubert's locker. She'd written that note  
in the hopes that he'd try to do something to Lance and get flattened  
for it.  
Apparently, that had backfired.  
Big time.  
Just like the thing she pulled on Kurt.  
  
"Just hold still."  
"Glah," said Kurt.  
Amanda held his hand. "Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be  
okay..."  
"I'm *sure* he's fine," said Hank as he twiddled the controls of the  
tiny camera. "Your ringing was caused by mere concussion and should be  
gone by tomorrow. Ah. Here we go. Just as I suspected. A ruptured  
capilliary or two."  
Amanda sighed.  
Kurt shuddered as the apparatus was removed. "That," he announced,  
"feels *wierd*." He immediately waggled his tail-tip in the offending  
ear.  
"Ew... *Kurt*!"  
"Vas? Mein fingers are too thick..."  
Amanda sighed. "Use a Q-tip. *Please*. I want to *play* with that tail  
later."  
"As you wish, liebchen."  
Hank folded his arms. "I take it you're going to casually ignore my  
advice to take things easy for twenty-four hours. Let alone my warnings  
to stay mostly vertical during that time period?"  
"Relax, Mr McCoy," said Amanda. "I'll keep him on a short leash."  
"Aaaawwwwwww..." said Kurt, putting on a fake pout.  
  
"We'll be watching you, Mr Alvers," the MiBs put him on the sidewalk  
outside the boarding house.  
His story had checked out, in that he still believed in the existance  
of the 'any' key; and the MiB went away.  
He didn't know whether to feel insulted or vindicated. 


	12. Part 12

Part 12 ^_^  
  
"But it isn't the *same*," Kurt whimpered.  
Amanda quirked a smile. "First time I've *ever* had complaints about  
the view," she said. Kurt's head was on her lap, her bosom within easy  
line-of-sight for him.  
"Ja, but - I'm used to dangling. I also got a fantastiche view *that*  
way..."  
"Letcherous elf," Amanda chided. "Allow me to change your mind." She  
leaned forward for some little treats and, by the time she leaned back,  
Kurt was grinning like the cat that found the canary in the cream. "Now  
say 'ah'."  
"Aaaaa*AAA*aaaaahhhhh..."  
She popped a sweetmeat in his mouth.  
"Mmmmmmmmm," he said. "I'm going to be a *good* little elf for you,  
liebchen. Nice and behaved little elf." He began to purr as his tail  
nudged the popcorn bowl away from them. "Can I have some popcorn,  
Schatz?"  
Amanda laughed. "Letcherous elf."  
Kurt just smiled, mouth wide open, and the tip of his tongue resting  
on his bottom lip. "Ah. Ah," he said.  
"You fuzzy dope! I haven't got the popcorn yet..."  
"Ja?" he said, pretending innocence. "So?"  
Amanda sighed. "Hoboy. I just asked for this, didn't I?"  
Kurt just repeated his previous grin. "Ah. Ah."  
She giggled as she leaned forward.  
There was a muffled, "Wheeee!" from under her breasts. Followed by a,  
"Num num num num num num..."  
It took her several minutes to stop laughing too hard.  
  
"Kurt's *medical* bill?" Kitty screeched. "Why have I gotta like, pay  
for Kurt's *medical* bill?"  
"You *did* do the damage, Miss Pryde. And you did say you were going  
to pay for *all* damages," Hank smiled. "That includes the minor  
injuries you inflicted."  
"Aw, man..." she whimpered. "I'm gonna be like, waxing the X-jet into  
like, next *century*..."  
"In order to work off your debt, you'll be doing far more than washing  
the X-jet," began Professor Xavier.  
Kitty groaned.  
"We'll *start* with the light stuff," said Logan. "A complete  
inventory of all forty basement levels."  
"Forty-one," corrected Xavier. "Remember Jean and Amara's work on the  
new levels."  
"And your telephonic access will be curtailed," added Hank.  
"Extremely curtailed," added Xavier.  
"We're giving your 'phone to the Elf," said Logan.  
"*Nnnnooooooooooooooooo*!"  
  
This time, when she straightened up, there was an Elf stuck in her  
cleavage. He was making kissy noises.  
"*Kurt*..."  
"Mmmm?"  
"You're supposed to be taking it easy."  
"Aaaawwwwww..." He gave one breast a gentle fondle. "Just a little  
play?"  
"*Down*, fuzzboy."  
Kurt collapsed back onto the pillow on her lap with a sigh. "I never  
thought being injured would be so difficult. All this because of a few  
lousy capilliaries..."  
"Relax," Amanda soothed. "You should be allowed to romp properly by  
tomorrow morning. Mr McCoy just wants to be sure you're healed."  
"Herr McCoy is no fun."  
There was a distant scream of anguish.  
"What the heck was that?" said Amanda.  
"Sounds like Kitty's had her 'phone privaleges cut off."  
"What *with*, a chainsaw?"  
Kurt grinned. "Close."  
  
Kitty coughed for the umpty-bizillionth time as she trudged towards  
the showers. Considering the vast numbers of people who had to clean out  
the basements as a punishment detail, it was amazing how much dust could  
gather in them. Maybe there was some mutant somewhere who put dust in  
basements or something. The bigger the basement, the more dust.  
*Or* she could just be going slowly insane.  
She could barely hold herself up. Her legs were aching. Her arms  
protested at even the tiniest hint of being lifted. Her back felt like  
her entire spine had been dislocated.  
"One more thing," she muttered to herself. "Just one more thing going  
wrong today, and I *swear*..."  
Ray exited the boys' bathroom with a towel draped around his neck.  
"Professor!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. "We're out of hot  
water! *Again*!"  
Kitty started shaking with pure rage.  
"What the fuck's up with you, spaz?" he said, adding the last straw.  
"HAI!" With strength she didn't know she had, Kitty Pryde launched  
herself at Ray and practiced her karate on the guy.   
Her aim was to hurt, rather than injure, so he came off lightly - but  
he certainly didn't feel that way when her final throw landed him  
upside-down in the wall.  
"You *JERK*!" Kitty screamed, phasing away.  
Ray blinked. He still didn't want to move, and the plaster seemed  
quite happy to hold him up. "Holy *crap*," he said. Then added, "*Wow*." 


	13. Part 13

Part 13 ^_^  
  
Kitty groaned. "Man, how did Kurt like, put *up* with *doing* this?"  
Her back was sore. Her arms were sore. Her hands just plain ached.  
The X-jet, on the other hand, was still mostly filthy, and she'd been  
washing for *ages*.  
A string of curses told her that Ray had arrived for yet another  
punishment detail. He got them regularly for cussing, fighting or just  
plain losing his temper. His typical greeting was restrained to a  
simplistic, "'Sup?"  
Kitty peeked over the wing. "Grime content by like, three billion  
percent."  
"Sounds like th' popsicle took it f'r a joyride again," said Ray. He  
dumped his shirt and picked up a couple of sponges. He dunked them in  
the bucket and started on the tyres. "I'm gonna get 'im fer that in my  
own time. Trust me on this."  
It had been the most he'd said without a single curseword. Kitty  
pocked her head through the wing. Logan was nowhere in sight.  
Ray was sorta staring at her. "It looks f-funky when you do that," he  
said.  
Kitty popped back up so she could solidify from shock. *Ray* just said  
*'funky'*... _Like, has my reality check totally bounced?_ She went back  
to scrubbing, lest someone accuse her of slacking. "Are you like,  
feeling okay?"  
"Meh," said Ray.  
"It's only because like, you've said like, four sentences and you  
haven't like, cussed yet."  
"You like me swearin'?"  
"Um." Kitty worried at some dug-in mud. How the heck had Bobby managed  
to get *mud* ground into the X-jet? It boggled the mind. "Well, like...  
not really? But it's like, part of like, you, you know?"  
Ray muttered something that sounded remarkably like, "*Women*..."  
under his breath.  
After she cleared up the mud, she had to ask. "Like, how the heck do  
you guys get this thing like, so dirty, anyway?"  
"Emergency landing in a bog. Had a crap time getting it back out,  
too."  
Ray *never* said 'crap' when a bunch of other cusses would do.  
"You're *sure* you're like, okay."  
"More or less," he said. "Less talkin', more workin'; hey?"  
Kitty increased her scrubbing speed. The sooner this was done, like,  
the better. Ray was starting to totally creep her out.  
  
Kurt flipped end over end, glad of the freedom. Even though his  
beloved Amanda had been there to comfort him, being earthbound was hell.  
It felt good to be tumbling again, shaking the metaphorical rust from  
his joints.  
He heard Hank sigh in the hallway. "I see you couldn't wait until I  
gave you a clean bill of health," he said.  
"You have no idea what it's like to have your wings clipped mein  
herr," said Kurt. He landed on his feet. "Besides, I remember you said  
something about me being fine today."  
"I have to check you out, first," he said.  
Kurt groaned. "I hate that camera thing. It feels wierd."  
"Fibreoptic probe," corrected Hank. "This way."  
Kurt visibly slumped, and began to pray under his breath that he  
wasn't still earthbound. He was aching to *fly*. He only interrupted his  
covert pleas in order to murmur, "I was only doing lateral  
somersaults..."  
  
{Ring ring!}  
"Mine!" Amanda bolted for the 'phone, only to have Mike grab it first.  
"All Our Stiffs Mortuary," he said with typical Older Brother flair.  
"You kill 'em, we crate 'em."  
"*MIKE*!"  
Mike's eyes bugged. "What the hell do you want the spaz for? She can't  
talk right now, she's sand-blasting the pimples off her face."  
"GIMME THE 'PHONE YOU JERK!" _God, why did Mom have to have three boys  
before she had me?_  
Mike laughed. "Hey, this guy's cussing me out in another language...  
Some potty-mouth."  
"He's probably laying a curse on you," said Amanda. "Gypsies can do  
that, you know."  
"Uh," said Mike to the 'phone. "Here she is right now."  
"Let me guess, liebchen," said Kurt as soon as Amanda had said 'hi'.  
"You played the Romani card."  
"Uh-huh," Amanda giggled. "So what were you *actually* doing?"  
"Cussing him out. He's not a very supportive brother, is he?"  
"I have five of them," said Amanda. "All with nothing better to do  
than make my life *hell*."  
"Ach, meine armer Liebling..." Kurt cooed. "How can you stand to be  
near men after them?"  
"Oh, I dunno," she said, absently swatting her younger brother Kyle on  
the back of his head for making faces. "I guess I found one of the good  
ones."  
"Mi mi mi mi mi mi mi mi mi," mocked Dave.  
Amanda gave him the finger.  
"I'm telling on you," said Danny.  
Amanda carried the 'phone into her room and locked the door on her  
brothers. "Ah. Now that we're *alone*, what's the diagnosis?"  
"I got yelled at for doing a few laterals this morning, but Hank says  
I'm still fine, regardless. And how are you faring? You never mentioned  
your brothers to me..."  
"Trust me, you're better off not knowing them. As in 'at all'. Things  
are kinda tough on me with them ever since you loaned me a little  
confidence, you know?"  
"Ah," said Kurt. "No wonder you want to hang around with me."  
"Yeah, compared to my brothers, you're a quiet pond. Restful, you  
know?"  
"Heh; remind me to introduce you to meine schwesters, sometime. It's a  
girl-grenade."  
Amanda laughed. "So, am I gonna see you at school today?"  
"Probably upside-down, ja. I wouldn't want to miss a minute of mein  
time with you, liebe."  
"Aaaawww."  
Someone picked up an extension. "'Manda picks her boogers and eats  
them!"  
"*DANNY*!" Amanda screamed at him. "Get off the 'phone you little  
freak!"  
"You should be nicer to your schwester," Kurt advised. "One day she'll  
run away with me and you won't be able to torture her any more."  
"Like I care," said Danny, and hung up.  
"That tears it," said Amanda. "I'm pulling a sleepover at your place,  
tonight."  
"I'll remind the staff to short-sheet our bed," said Kurt with a  
laugh. "I have to get ready, now, geliebt. Ich liebe dich."  
They spent another minute kissing over the 'phone before they hung up.  
_God, I thank you for Kurt. He's restored my faith in humanity in  
general and males in particular._  
  
Kurt didn't even think of anything else until he was quite done  
greeting Amanda before class.  
This meant he accumulated five, "Get a room"s, ten expressions of  
disgust and one, "Geez, you were just together *yesterday*..." before he  
came up for air.  
Amanda was blushing. And giggling. "Wow."  
"Just a little thankyou, liebchen, for yesterday. You made my  
confinement on the ground worthwhile."  
"Does that mean I can follow you home and play?" she gestured at the  
overnight bag at her feet.  
"But of course," Kurt grinned. "You know how I love to play with  
*you*..."  
The bell rang, and they both had to hurry to get to first class.  
Life was good.  
  
Life *sucked*.  
Kitty cringed at her desk at the thought of her homework. Grungy  
because she couldn't take a shower because *some* people had to use up  
all the hot water on her. Sure, the Professor was going to upgrade the  
hot water system, but that was like, weeks away.  
Hubert Hughes was smiling at her, trying not to show his braces as he  
did so.  
_Would it be that bad to date a geek?_ she asked herself. _Like,  
*duh*. *YES*..._ What was she *thinking*?  
  
"Say, Rahne. You're a girl..."  
Rahne glared at Ray. "Aye. The tits are a dead give-away."  
Ray blushed. "If you want me to fuck off, just *say* so."  
She sighed. "Okay. What d'ye want?"  
"Um. There's this girl I kinda - noticed... Um. I want her to get her  
to like me..."  
"An' ye want a few friendly hints?"  
"Yah. Basically." He stuck his hands in his pockets and toed at the  
carpet.  
"Is she anyone I know?"  
Ray shrugged. "Dunno." After a moment's further fascination with the  
carpet, he added. "She goes here."  
"Is she lookin' at anyone else?"  
"Um. She kinda split up with some asshole a little back."  
"YOU LIKE *KITTY*?!"  
"Hey, keep it fuckin' down!" Ray zoomed over to her and clamped his  
hand on her mouth. "You want *Jubes* to hear?"  
"*Aaaaah*," Rahne removed the hand from her mouth to say as much. "I  
get it now. So what's it worth to ye to keep quiet, eh?"  
Ray heabutted the back of Rahne's chair. "...I'm doomed..." 


	14. Part 14

Part 14 ^_^  
  
If Amanda could pinpoint the moment everything went wrong, it had to  
be the day that her father decided to pick her up from school, instead  
of getting one of her older brothers to do it. Everything went sour from  
the moment she spotted him.  
They were laughing together about how his teammates always made sure  
they were somewhere in the area around him. Sure, their protectiveness  
was cute, but it was if they didn't believe he was capable of looking  
after himself.  
He had, after all, spent something like fourteen years of his life  
doing so.  
"Hhhhch," Amanda imitated the sound of a walkie-talkie hissing.  
"Secret Agent Scott, you have been spotted. Your cover is blown. Repeat,  
your cover is blown."  
"Hhhhch. Negatory, negatory," Kurt sounded remarkably like Scott with  
a German accent. "I can play natural. Look, I'm flirting with Taryn."  
"More like trying to beat her off with a stick," observed Amanda.  
"Look at him. If it wasn't for you, he'd run screaming."  
They laughed again.  
"Ah, liebling," Kurt sighed. "You make me want to kiss you."  
"So why don't you?"  
"You also make me smile too hard. Est ist difficult to pucker up, ja?"  
Then someone was right up next to them. Amanda looked up to see her  
father's disapproving glare raining down on them. "*This* is the 'Kurt'  
you've been talking about? *I* was thinking he was *American*."  
"Daddy..."  
"Er. Guten Tag," Kurt smiled and waved a greeting. "You must be Herr  
Sefton. The honour is mine." The little bow was a bit much, but it *did*  
get him out of shaking hands. "You've raised a spectacularly beautiful  
daughter."  
Daddy pulled her away from him. "And I'll thank you to keep your  
filthy hands off her, you stinking little Nazi."  
"Daddy, *no*!"  
It was like watching a Nun go on a killing spree. No, the *Pope* going  
on a killing spree. Her personal epitome of kindness and gentleness  
suddenly turned into this ferocious *thing*. His friends appeared out of  
nowhere and held him back.  
"Nazi?" Amanda could practically see the true him, underneath the  
hologram, and he was frightening. "*NAZI*? Dreksau! Arshgesicht!  
Hurensohn! Mein Opa had numbers on his wrist because of *bigots* like  
*you*!" He fought to get free, but the living barrier of people holding  
him back was one he couldn't wriggle out of.  
"Who are you callin' a bigot, Nazi?"  
"I'm calling you a bigot, du scheisse! Du Schwuchtl! Let me *GO*,  
verdammt! One less bigot won't matter!"  
Obviously, Daddy had pressed one of his buttons. Call him a freak and  
he'd flinch. Insult his looks and it would glide off him like water off  
a duck's back. Impugn his family, and he'd get snippy, sure; but Amanda  
had never seen *this*...  
"I don't see no star of David around your neck, boy. You're grandaddy  
was *killing* Jews. He wasn't with them."  
"Nein, he was in the other camp with the *rest* of the Romani, du  
*Schwarzeschmutz*!"  
Evan, hanging on to Kurt's left arm with all of his strength, winced.  
"Yeah, and next you'll call me 'undermench'," said Daddy, forcibly  
steering Amanda away. "It never takes long for a Nazi to revert to  
type."  
"I'm sorry Kurt," Amanda called back. "I'll try to talk some sense  
into him, I promise..."  
Kurt aimed all his hate at Daddy and screamed, "Sie wurden aus Esel  
Ihr Mutter heraus getragen, du *Fotze*!"  
Daddy gave him the finger, increased his grip on her arm and said, "If  
I hear one more word about you and that Nazi boy, I'll ground you *so*  
hard; your great-great-great *grandchildren* won't be able to go out on  
Saturday nights."  
"He was right, you know," said Amanda. "You *are* fucking bigot."  
"*Amanda*!" Daddy fought a brief inner battle before he announced,  
"I'll give you just *one* chance to explain that remark, young lady, and  
then it's *on*."  
"He's a Gypsy," she said. "His people were put in the camps, *and* the  
ovens, *and* the laboratories. His people suffered the same atrocities  
as the Jews, and they're *still* reviled and outcast."  
"Yeah, well you can't tell me they don't deserve it. They'll steal  
anything that ain't nailed down."  
"*RRRR*!" Amanda felt the same rage filling her, and actually started  
hitting him. Not that her punches had any effect. "God-damnit! I don't  
care if you ground me for the rest of my *life*! You're a fucking dirty  
*bigot*, you *fuck*!"  
He bodily picked her up and forced her into the car. "It's *on*, young  
lady. You'd better *believe* that it's on. You're grounded for two  
months, and every time I hear about you seeing that Nazi Cracker, that's  
two more. As of now, all privaleges are *cancelled*. And don't think I  
won't tan your ass 'cause you're too old - you throw another tantrum and  
your butt won't wanna know you."  
"Did you even *look* at the people holding him back?" she asked.  
"Not another word, Amanda," Daddy started the car. "I ain't in the  
mood for it."  
  
German is *really* good for cussing in, and Kurt went on for some  
time, not repeating himself once. Rogue, who'd absorbed some of the  
language when she'd absorbed him, had long since gone bright red. Scott  
figured that if there were any sailors around who understood German,  
they'd be blushing, too.  
He eventually wound down and fell to sobbing onto Rogue's shoulder.  
"Hey. *Hey*... Shhh..." Rogue gently patted his shoulder. "He don't  
matter. He just don't matter. Let it go, come on."  
"*Yikes*," said Evan. "I never knew there was another N-word."  
"Like, get *with* it, Evan," Kitty scoffed.  
"Yeah," said Scott. "There's a whole cultural guilt thing going on  
about that. Don't you study history?"  
"Only when I gotta," he grinned.  
"Germans are *ashamed* of the whole N-thing," said Jean. "Call 'em one  
and you get their backs up. Like *that*," she snapped her fingers.  
"Add to that the fact that Kurt's like, a Gypsy, and you've got like,  
real *hatred* going on, you know?"  
"Dude!" said Evan. "You never mentioned it..."  
"I mention it all the time," said Kurt, standing on his own at last.  
"What do you think Romani *means*, eh?"  
Evan shrugged and voiced a grunt that could stand in place for the  
phrase, "I dunno."  
Kurt tisked and sighed. "Forget it. I'm going for a walk. I need to  
cool down some."  
Scott clapped him on the shoulder. "You do that. Try not to beat up on  
anyone else, huh?"  
Kurt actually smiled. "Hey. You know I'm a pacifist."  
"Until somebody drops the N-word," muttered Evan.  
"Shut up..." said Rogue through gritted teeth.  
  
Stupid bigots. Why did they have to carry on existing when all the  
*good* people - Mother Theresa, Princess Di, George Harrison and so  
forth - had to perish from this Earth? What was it about evil that bred  
in dark corners and spread out around the world, staining all those who  
should have recognised it and spurned it?  
Why did people have to be so consistently *stupid*?  
Why did people have to hate?  
Kurt kicked a rock. He'd heard what Herr Sefton had said about the  
Romani and their suffering during the holocaust. No doubt he'd hate  
mutants if they'd come into the open, too.  
Nothing he was had a single speck of virtue to the man.  
Rogue said he didn't matter. He was his beloved's *father*. Of  
*course* he mattered.  
The man who had raised beautiful, tolerant, colour-blind and gently  
loving Amanda was a racist bigot of the worst order. He didn't even  
notice when he uttered hate-speak.  
Kurt sighed. There was nothing he could say or do to change the man's  
mind.  
He smirked. He'd just have to elope with Amanda when the time came.  
Yes. A secret engagement. Love notes and whispered endearments - just  
like Romeo and Juliette.  
Except for the whole death thing. That was just bad.  
"Ja, cheer up Kurt," he murmured to himself. "Love conquers all."  
"[Exactly my thoughts, my dear,]" said someone behind him.  
Kurt turned. _Oh no. Oh, *NO*..._  
Jimaine Szardos smiled on one side of her mouth. She continued  
speaking Romani, just for the impact. "[You look shocked to see me,  
lover,]" she said. "[Did you think that running off to America would  
spare you from me?]" Jimaine flicked her strawberry-blonde hair off one  
shoulder, casually flaunting the signs she wore that notified the Romani  
world that she was a sorceress.  
Kurt was careful not to back away from her. "[Greetings, Lady,]" he  
said. "[I see you've graduated from your mother's tutelage.  
Congratulations.]"  
"[So formal. And we spent so much time together.]"  
He couldn't correct her; it wasn't good for the health to irritate a  
sorceress. What they shared in Heirelgart was a few kisses and a cuddle  
or two, mostly for appearances, and mainly because of his secret, held  
over his head by the one witness. There was, as far as Kurt was  
concerned, no love there.  
She toured around him, taking in the look of his hologram in and  
murmuring in delight. "[Is this why you come to America? To play at  
being human?]"  
_I *am* human,_ he thought, but said. "[Not quite. I come here to  
learn. To be part of something bigger than I am. To train and grow my  
abilities.]"  
"[I've followed you, lover. I've watched you for quite a while. You  
and that black girl. You musn't see her any more, you know. We have  
promises together]"  
"[Yes.]"  
"[And you'd do well to remember them.]"  
Kurt hung his head. Once again, he was on the edge of that cliff,  
staring into the face of Death. Would it never go away? "[Yes.]"  
Unbidden, tears spilled down his face.  
"[It's not that bad, beloved,]" she cooed. "[All you have to do is  
keep your promise.]"  
"[I will,]" he said. "[Jimaine? May I at least give her a last date? A  
- a nice goodbye?]"  
Jimaine pondered and smiled. "[Yes. You may have one last date. But if  
you kiss her? I'll make you piebald.]"  
"[I understand,]" he said.  
"[You understand, what?]"  
Kurt sighed. "[I understand - lover.]" 


	15. Part 15

Part 15 ^_^  
  
It was a fun time, sure, but it was one of the weirdest dates in the  
history of mutual togetherness.  
Kurt took Amanda to all the best places. Paid for everything. But at  
the same time, he barely touched her. It was strange.  
They finally found the time to talk in a park.  
"Okay," she began. "Something's more than up with you. You've hardly  
even cuddled me all evening. What happened? Did you give me up for lent  
or something?"  
He looked - bleak. As if his world was ending. "Maybe we'd better sit  
somewhere."  
It was bad news. She *knew* it was bad news. Amanda sat.  
Kurt placed himself next to her. "I've been thinking a lot about us,  
liebe. Maybe your Vater is right. Maybe we should stick with our own  
kind."  
"Our own *kind*? Kurt - my Daddy threatened me with two month's of  
being grounded just for going on this date. I don't *care* what people  
think about us."  
Now he looked like he wanted to die. "Amanda, please. This is hard  
enough as it is."  
Tears fell from her eyes and she didn't really notice.  
"I love you. I do. I think I might even love you forever. But -- you  
deserve better than to be hated for who you choose."  
"...kurt?" her voice had gone small and weak.  
"Mixed colour marriages - they rarely work. And that's ordinary  
colours like brown and beige. I'm *blue*. If people don't hate you for  
being with a 'Cracker', they'll despise you for being with a mutie."  
"Kurt, I already said I don't care. The world can go chase itself, or  
worse, as far as *I* care."  
Kurt sighed. "It's just the two of us, now. But what about later? What  
about children? Could you stand watching hundreds upon hundreds of  
others screaming in fear when they see our babies? Could you stand  
watching our children's hearts break when they realise they're not like  
everyone else? Could you put up with people wanting to *hurt* them? Just  
because of how they look?" Another sigh, a long pause where he sought  
the meaning of life in a flower. "It nearly killed *my* Mama. It turned  
her hair grey. Every time we meet up again, for the holidays, she nearly  
crushes the breath out of me... and she weeps."  
God, this hurt... "We don't have to break up because of that. We can  
work something out. Go somewhere. Use a ton of holowatches. Something.  
*Anything*..."  
"Liebchen - you deserve someone who doesn't have to hide who they are.  
I'm sorry. I am. You should have a better life than the only one I could  
give you."  
"Define 'better'," she challenged.  
He drew his knees up. "I didn't want to tell you this..." He buried  
his head in his folded arms. "There's someone else. Another girl."  
"How long?"  
Sigh. "Technically speaking, most of my life. Love or not, I have  
promises to keep. I never thought she'd hold me to them, but - she has.  
There's nothing I can do."  
"Is this some kind of weird, arranged marriage kind of thing?"  
"Something like that. I know not the English. Coloured letters...  
Ach..." He sighed. "I can't do anything against her, and she knows it.  
Besides, you have a much better chance without your bigot father  
grounding you every time you look at me."  
"Chance at what?" she asked. "Without you, I have no chance. Hell, I  
don't even have a life."  
"Evan's kind of sweet on you. Your father would approve..."  
"And in a way, we'd still kind of get to see each other."  
"Ja," said Kurt. "Look, but don't touch."  
They both sat and stared at the flowers. The beauty of the scene in  
front of them was like a desolate landscape to them.  
"Do I get a goodbye kiss?" she asked. "A final taste of what I'm  
missing?"  
"No. I can't. I - I promised."  
Amanda sighed. "Does she have a name?"  
"Jimaine Szardos. We sort of grew up together."  
"Do you love her?"  
"Things would be easier if I did," he whispered. "I'm sorry, geliebt.  
I have to go. You're in enough trouble breaking out of your home. I  
don't want to land you in more."  
Amanda watched him go. "Goodbye," she whispered. "Geliebt."  
  
Kurt walked home. He always found it difficult to teleport when he was  
depressed. He went in the unnoficial side-entrance that some of the  
other kids used - a breach in the western wall. Of course, that meant  
wriggling through brambles, but Kurt was an expert and others had made a  
sort of tunnel by tying branches together with whatever happened to be  
handy.  
All to avoid Logan breathing down their necks about arrival times and  
responsibilities to their teammates.  
Kurt did it to avoid anyone asking him how his date went.  
He crept into his room from the outside, climbing up the wall to enter  
from the balcony. He crossed his room to lock his door, then fell onto  
the bed and wept.  
His heart and soul were broken, right now. And it hurt like hell.  
  
"I just went for a *walk*," Amanda lied. "I got all this stuff to try  
and make me feel better."  
"Did it work?" said Daddy.  
"Not really," she admitted. "I'll just go back to my room, now," and  
she stormed into her little sanctuary. She locked her door to the rest  
of the house, then placed the last treasures Kurt got her in places of  
pride. Amanda fell onto her bed and wept.  
He still loved her, and he was going with this other girl who was  
probably more like a sister because of some promise she was holding him  
to. It was sick. He was a perfect gentleman about it. Honourable and  
gentle and kind and...  
It hurt like hell.  
  
{Knock knock}  
That had to be Scott. Everyone else rattled the doorknob first, owing  
to his habit of leaving the door unlocked.  
"Hey, Kurt, you in there?"  
"...go 'way," he said. "Le' me alone."  
{rattle rattle rattle} "Damnit..." a sigh. "Look, you've missed dinner  
and Amara said you've been locked in there since lunchtime. You know  
it's not good for you to miss meals."  
_Ha. Like I care any more._ "I'm not hungry."  
"Do you feel sick?"  
_In a way..._ "I'm not sick."  
"So something's up. What was it? F-word?"  
_Freak,_ Kurt thought.  
"N-word?"  
_Nazi,_ he translated.  
"D-word?"  
_Demon..._  
"Come on, gimmie a hint, here. We're worried about you."  
Spite and bile rose and came out of his mouth in the form of words.  
"You're just worried I'll *expose* you," he said. "You're not really  
worried about *me*."  
"That's not true."  
"Prove it," Kurt demanded.  
{Knock knock knock knock knock} "Come *on*, Kurt... At least open the  
door. I don't want to have an argument with a piece of wood." {Knock  
knock knock knock knock} "This is about Amanda, isn't it?"  
Just the mention of her name made him turn his face into his pillow  
and weep anew.  
"Kurt?" {Knock knock knock rattle rattle knock knock} "Kurt! Damnit...  
Let me *in*." {Thump thump thump thump *KICK*} "Fine. We'll do this the  
hard way."  
Kurt wept alone in the dark. Let him try. He'd locked all means of  
access to his room, and shut the curtains for good measure. Couldn't  
Scott take a hint? The last thing Kurt wanted right now was a bunch of  
stickybeaks invading his misery.  
  
Kurt's room was totally dark. Kitty only knew she was free of the door  
by feel alone. Were it not for his habitual neatness, she'd have been  
afraid to solidify.  
She could see nothing but black, and the faint glow of his clock-  
radio, but she still decided to leave the lights off. Darkness was a  
friend to Kurt. He'd always said as much.  
"I'm here," she murmured. "Just in case you wanna like, talk."  
"...go 'way," his voice was soft and thick with emotion. "Le' me  
alone." And then all she heard was the soft sounds of a broken heart.  
"Kurt," she said, "you like, need to eat."  
More sobs. "Go 'way."  
"Is it Amanda? Did she like, break it off with you?"  
"Nein." A sigh. "I had to break it off with her."  
"What? *Why*?"  
More weeping in the dark. "You couldn't understand."  
{Thump thump thump thump thump} "*Ku-urt*," Scott called. "You've got  
a 'phone call. Some girl calling herself Jimaine."  
Kitty could have sworn Kurt muffled a scream of pure anguish in his  
pillow.  
The next thing she heard was the click of Kurt unlocking his door. She  
was nearly blinded by the hall light. 


	16. Part 16

Part 16 ^_^  
  
"*Fi*nally," said Scott, waving the 'phone at Kurt. "Do you have any  
idea how worried everyone is?"  
Kurt just took the handset from him and said, "Jawohl?" Pause. "Ja,  
Ich tat es. Wir brachen oben."  
"We have to talk," said Scott.  
Kurt waved him off. "Selbstverstandlich erinnerte mich ich. Ich legte  
kaum einen Finger auf sie. Oder noch etwas, irgendein. Ja, kenne ich Sie  
kann erklaren, wenn ich liege. Ich liege nie, sowieso. Ja. Ich weiss.  
Morgen? Moglicherweise der Tag nachher? Ich Verpflichtungen haben..."  
The more he listened to the 'phone, the more depressed he got. "Ich  
*weiss*, Jimi."  
"You *know* I hate it when you talk on the 'phone in another  
language," said Scott. "Who the heck is Jimaine? Should we trust her?  
What do we know about her? What does she know about us? Talk to me."  
"Clappe," Kurt ordered. "Was? Ah. Nicht kann ich diesen Nickname  
verwenden? *Ich* immer gemocht ihm... okay."  
"Rrrr!" Scott looked to Kitty. "Do *you* know anything about this?"  
Kitty just shrugged. Scott stormed downstairs and picked up one of the  
extensions and a notebook.  
The minute he picked up, he heard, "Wir wurden Tauschensprachen  
verbessern - Geliebten - jemand, das innen hort."  
Then they just started speaking gibberish.  
Hand over the receiver, Scott hissed, "Goddamnit... Hey! Rogue. You  
absorbed Kurt, so you'd know all the languages *he* knows, right?"  
"Kinda," said Rogue. "What's up?"  
"I need to know what's going on between him and this girl Jimaine.  
They're speaking some language I've never heard before. Please? I have  
to know what's up."  
  
Rogue sighed and took the handset from Scott. The only reason she was  
doing this was that Scott had said 'please'. The echo of Kurt, deep in  
her mind, was kicking up a ruckus about other people's privacy and his  
in particular.   
_You never hear anything good about yourself when you eavesdrop,_ he  
said.  
Rogue told him to go play with himself. More or less, and focussed on  
his knowledge.  
They were speaking a Romani dialect, the one from Kurt's home area. By  
the time she managed to focus on understanding, she was sure she'd  
missed half the point.  
"[...remember what you owe me,]" said the girl, presumably Jimaine.  
"[Of course I do. How could I forget? It haunts me every night. I see  
it in my dreams. Every night.]" Kurt's mode of speech was very meek.  
Submissive. Like a child talking to an honoured elder. "[I'll remember  
my promise. Always.]"  
"[Good. Because I have the power, now. I have the means to punish you  
if you attempt to renegotiate. Or go back on your word. I can curse you  
with your worst nightmares made flesh.]"  
"[Lover? Most of my nightmares *were* flesh.]"  
_What the--?_ Rogue nearly missed the rest of the conversation.  
"[Insolence won't be tolerated, lover,]" said Jimaine. "[I'll let this  
one slide, but you'd best mind your manners with me.]"  
"[I'm sorry, lover. I shouldn't have spoken at all.]"  
"[Quite right. I shall see you the day after tomorrow. Monday. We  
shall spend time together in school. And you will not look at any other  
woman but me.]"  
Sigh. "[As you wish. Lover.]"  
"[Good boy.]" {click}  
Kurt hung up, too, and so did Rogue.  
"*Well*?" said Scott.  
"It's weird," summarised Rogue. "They're callin' each other 'lover',  
but they may as well be sayin' 'master' and 'slave'."  
Scott's eyebrows shot up. "*Huh*?"  
"Jimaine's holdin' somethin' over Kurt's head," Rogue told him. "I  
don't know what it is, I didn't hear that part. All I know is he made a  
promise and she means to see him keep it."  
"I'm guessing it's something pretty major."  
"I got that, too," she said. Inside her head, the echo of Kurt was  
begging and pleading with her not to tell. Especially about the  
nightmares that made zero sense to *her*.  
  
"What?" said Evan. "Did I hear you right?"  
"I *said*," said Kurt, "You and Amanda would make a good couple. We've  
broken up, and she needs someone to keep her company."  
"K-man? You okay? You're looking a little -" _suicidal_ "- listless.  
Did you have dinner, yet?"  
"I'm not hungry," Kurt whispered. "Just - consider Amanda, ja? I'd  
hate for her to rebound with some jerk I don't know."  
"As opposed to a jerk you *do* know, right?" Evan grinned.  
The joke didn't seem to reach Kurt. "Be nice to her, hey? Treat her  
like a Lady."  
This was a Kurt that Evan had never seen before. This was Kurt  
depressed and serious. This was Kurt looking into his own grave. "Yo, K-  
man. If you need to get it off your chest... I'll listen."  
"Danke. Nein. I can handle this on my own."  
"Don't do anything stupid? Please?" Evan begged. "I've seen that look  
before, dude. Last time I saw it, the guy jumped off a building."  
Kurt cracked a smile. "I'd probably bounce," he said. "Sorgen Sie sich  
nicht... I'll be fine."  
  
Ororo and Logan were waiting for him when he got back to his room.  
"Word is you ain't been eatin', Elf."  
He sighed. "I'm not hungry."  
"Hungry or not, you need to eat," said Ororo. "We all know your  
metabolism is pitched higher than average. Your body simply won't put up  
with a lack of food."  
Logan raised a tray cover. There were several plates of his favourite  
foods. "You got two choices, Elf. Eat on your own, or get fed."  
Just the smell made his stomach rumble. _Traitor._  
Ororo gently guided him to the stool by his dresser, and carefully  
pressed the cutlery into his hands. "We know something's bothering you,  
Kurt. We just want you to look after yourself and, when you're ready,  
you can talk to us."  
Kurt picked at his food. "What's the point of talking? None of us can  
do anything about it. It's hopeless."  
"Ain't no such thing, Elf," said Logan. "Talk. It'll help."  
Kurt spent a long moment studying him. "You wouldn't even understand  
the beginning of it," he said. _I barely understand it, myself..._ 


	17. Part 17

Part 17 ^_^  
  
They were called the Impossible Brothers, even though each of them  
went home to a different house. They spent as much time together as they  
could, going everywhere together.  
Kurti, Andrei and Stefan. Inseperable and indivisable.  
They were best friends, even when respective sisters attempted to tag  
along. For years, the trio were like that, and they swore that they'd be  
friends forever.  
Then came the year that Stefan Szardos started seeing monsters and  
phantoms. He'd slash at them with sticks or throw rocks at them, but  
they were monsters only he could see.  
Andrei was spooked by it, and the number of rocks that went winging  
over his large shoulders, and started avoiding the boy.  
Kurti, far more sympathetic and empathic than his Centaur 'brother',  
would deliberately make time to see the sorceress' son.  
That day, when he found Stefan, the Gypsy boy had a knife.  
"Stefan!" Kurti was shocked. "That's your mother's! She'll be upset  
that you've got it; and you shouldn't be playing with knives anyway..."  
"I'm *not* playing, Kurti," said Stefan. "This is deadly serious. I've  
seen them. Demons masquerading as men. They have to be stopped."  
"Why? Are they hurting people?"  
Stefan continued walking. They were heading down the mountain, to a  
town that neither the villagers of Heirelgart nor the circus ever  
visited. It showed up on the local maps as Winzeldorf.  
"*Stefan*..." Kurti persisted, tagging along. "I asked you a question.  
Are they hurting anyone?"  
"They're *demons*," said Stefan. "They have to be stopped. I'm  
righteous enough to see the truth. They hide inside the skins of normal  
people. Where do they *get* the skins, eh? Did you think of that?"  
"I'm scared," Kurti admitted. "Can't we go back? You can take some of  
your Mama's tea and you'll feel better."  
"The tea clouds my vision, friend. It obscures my sight, makes me  
weak. Demons gave Mama that tea so I wouldn't be able to stop their foul  
plans."  
Kurti was *really* scared, now. He'd never *been* here, before.  
Everything was new and strange. "What plans, Stefan?" he asked.  
Sometimes, if he asked enough questions, Stefan would realise he was on  
the brink, and turn back.  
"They're body snatchers," he said. "They feed off us real people and  
live in our skins. Until they need another skin. And another. And  
another... And no-one notices because the murders happen years before  
the dead people move on and lose touch. It's brilliant."  
"Have you seen it happen?"  
"You think I'd want to *watch*, when I could strike them down?"  
Kurti swallowed. This was getting *frightening*. He'd never *seen*  
Stefan so wild in the eyes. "I just wanted to know how *you* know," he  
said. "I mean, it's all very well *saying* this stuff, but how do you  
*know*?"  
"Shhh!" Stefan placed a finger over his lips. "We're nearly there. We  
need to be *quiet*, now."  
They emerged from the woods in someone's back yard. It was scattered  
liberally with the sort of toys that very small children enjoyed. All of  
them were plastic and brightly-coloured.  
Kurti's heart hammered in his chest. "Are we gonna break in?" Kurti  
whispered.  
"It's not really a crime," hissed Stefan. "They're *demons*, remember?  
The real people they're pretending to be are long dead." Knife in his  
teeth, he lifted himself up to look through a window. He dropped back  
down. "Great. Its Dam and Sire are out. They've got a real person  
babysitting. They're probably going to murder her, later. Open the  
window. I need to get in."  
"I dunno, Stefan..."  
"We're doing God's work, Kurti," he said. "I'm righteous. I was *put*  
on this Earth to strike down the demons. I was *made* to be his weapon  
to cleanse this Earth of Satan's filth. If you won't, I will."  
Maybe he wouldn't go through with it. Kurti crossed himself and  
climbed the wall. _God help us. Guide our hands to do the right  
thing..._ he prayed.  
The window wasn't locked.  
Inside the room, a child lay peacefully slumbering. He was barely past  
a year old. A picture of innocence incarnate.  
Stefan saw the kid with different eyes. "There it is," he whispered.  
"The demon spawn."  
"It's just a *child*," whispered Kurti.  
"What? You want me to wait until it grows up and breeds? They had to  
kill a child to get that skin, to make it look normal. What I'm doing is  
evening the score. I'm working God's justice. I'm righteous. God will  
stop me if I'm wrong and he's innocent."  
"I pray he will," hissed Kurti. He meant it with all his heart. And if  
God wasn't inclined to do anything, Kurti planned to do it for him and  
claim divine intervention.  
Stefan raised the knife.  
Kurti tensed, ready to pounce, and then found himself unable to move.  
The kid woke up, blinked, and stared at them both.  
"Die, demon," whispered Stefan.  
The knife came down.  
Kurti's right hand shot out and stopped him.  
The kid started crying.  
"What?" said Stefan. "How could you? I *stopped* you..."  
"I don't understand either," said Kurti. "It just - *moved*."  
"Let me *go*."  
"I *can't*."  
The babysitter got up, and approached. Kurti could hear her footsteps  
in the hall, getting closer.  
"Let me *go*," repeated Stefan.  
"You let me go, first," bargained Kurt.  
The babysitter took one look at them and screamed.  
Kurt began to feel strange. For months, he'd been having bizarre  
nightmares about falling up, and through somewhere, to get somewhere  
else. And at times of real terror, he could smell sulphur and sort of  
see places that were really far away, as if he was there. Those spells  
were always accompanied by this feeling, like something *just* behind  
his shoulders was going to swallow him up.  
He could 'see' a clearing near a cliff. He *knew* it was closer to  
home. This time, he let himself 'fall up' and he took Stefan with him.  
{Bamf!}  
There was a vision of smoke and flames, and then they were in the  
clearing, and Stefan was unconscious, and he felt really sick.  
Really, *really* sick.  
The last thing he did before he blacked out was toss Stefan's knife as  
far as he could. Considering the state he was in, that wasn't far at  
all.  
He hoped Margali wouldn't be mad at him for getting it dirty.  
  
When he woke up, it was raining. Not hard, just a light shower. Stefan  
was somewhere, mumbling to himself. The ancient phrases of Romani magic,  
or some snatches of it, could be heard. Kurti sat up.  
"Damnit! The circle isn't complete..."  
"Stefan?" said Kurti. "What are you doing?"  
"I *was* gonna do this the easy way," he said. "Because you've been my  
friend... But you had to wake up and ruin my lines."  
Kurti looked. There were mystic sigils everywhere, drawn in the dirt.  
"I don't understand," Kurti confessed. "What are you *doing*?"  
"I finally saw it. I saw the real truth. All this time, I was worried  
about the hidden ones. The ones that sneak and creep in the night, in  
broad daylight, and imperil mortal lives. When *all* this *time*, the  
biggest demon has been right in front of me. Out in the open. Bold as  
brass. *You*. Daring to pretend to be just a kid, worming your way into  
people's hearts and enslaving them to your will! I *see* you, demon! I  
*See* you at last! I finally know what to do. I *was* going to send you  
back to Hell with a portal, but now--" the knife flashed in the half-  
light, "--I'm just gonna have to kill you."  
"What? *Why*? Stefan, I'm your *friend*. We took first communion  
together. We sang in the choir together. We - we *everything* together.  
What's wrong with you?" Kurti stood up. "Can't you see your friend?"  
"No more, demon," said Stefan, circling around him. "You lost your  
chance to enslave me when you took me through Hell itself to get here."  
"*What*?"  
"When you took me from the demon's house - ha! Protecting your own  
kind! When you took me from there to here, I *Saw* the place you took us  
through. Fire and brimstone. Hideous beasts. All it needed was the souls  
of the damned, writhing in the lakes of fire! You're a demon and you  
took a shortcut through your own *true* home to get us here! You're a  
demon and you deserve Hell!" He leaped.  
"Stefan! No!" Kurti ducked out of the way. He still felt ill and unsure  
of his feet. His muscles felt like they'd all been pulled at once. And  
he was *hungry*. So very hungry. Weak, too. "I'm still your friend. I'm  
still Kurti. *Please* don't do this? Let's just go home, yes? You can  
have your special tea--"  
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Have my eyes fogged over again. Have  
me blind again to the truth. To the real facts."  
"Stefan, you're not well..."  
"I'm better than I've ever been, Demon. I'm stronger. More powerful.  
More than I've ever been before... And *you*, Demon, are not going to  
enslave *any* more innocents!" He leaped again.  
They'd played at fighting, before, when all they needed was to say the  
right word and all would be forgiven. Not this time. No words would make  
Stefan stop and help him up, dust the dirt from his fur, and go home for  
a snack. No friends were there, either, to act as referee.  
He was alone with a madman who had a knife. He was fighting for his  
life for the first time. Against one of his best friends. Against his  
'brother'.  
Words wouldn't stop him.  
Neither would tears.  
Nothing would stop him, short of a miracle.  
The way Kurti felt, he guessed he was fresh out of miracles, right now.  
All Kurti could do was try to hold him off and pray that the hysterical  
strength would eventually leave him.  
But that wasn't what fate had in store for them.  
Their tumbling bought them to the edge of a cliff. *Over* the edge of  
a cliff, in fact. Together they fell, but Kurti caught the edge of a  
root with his hands, and his 'brother' Stefan's vest with his feet. It  
hurt. It hurt like Hell, but he wouldn't let go. He couldn't let go.  
This was his 'brother'.  
His tail, always wont to wrap around things when he was afraid, curled  
itself around Stefan's neck.  
Kurti concentrated on a better grip before he tried to force his tail  
to let go.  
"Come *on*, Stefan!" he shouted. "Grab my legs! Climb up me!"  
Stefan just stared at him. He'd gone completely mad.  
"Come *on*," Kurti urged. "Grab *hold*! You're slipping..."  
A long moment of silence, which Stefan spent staring past Kurt's  
shoulder. "So you came for me, eh? You were always coming for me."  
"*Stefan*..." Kurti urged. "Grab *hold* of something!" His tail  
wouldn't let go. He tried to make it, but it wouldn't let go.  
"Don't be so tentative, demon," said Stefan. He sounded so *calm*. One  
hand reached up and tightened Kurti's tail around his neck. "You snug it  
tight, like this. And then you let go. Like --" the knife flashed and  
cut Kurti across his legs, "--*this*!"  
He was forced to let go.  
Stefan fell.  
His other hand held tight to the tip of Kurti's tail.  
Kurti barely heard the sickening crack of a human neck breaking above  
his own screams of pain. His entire spine burned like fire.  
He howled, unable to stop the sound.  
Stefan spasmed once. Twice, and then let go.  
His tail, now limp with agony, slid from its forced grasp.  
Tears mingled with rain.  
There was a sickening thud from far below, where Stefan hit the bottom  
of the cliff.  
For a long time, he hung there, wondering how he had the strength to  
do so, yet too afraid to follow his near-brother down. So he stayed  
where he was, between the worlds of the quick and the dead, and wept.  
Stefan was dead.  
He wanted to follow.  
And there was a pale hand, above him in the gloom, throwing out a  
rope. A little figure in the bright clothes of a sorceress' trainee,  
clambering down with all the expertise of a fellow tightwire-walker.  
"Jimi," Kurt breathed in recognition. "What are you *doing* here?"  
"Trying to save your blue fuzzy butt," she said. "Come on. Climb up."  
"But Stefan..."  
"He's dead. He can wait. You're not. Come on."  
"But--"  
Jimaine Szardos bought out the big guns. "Kurt Ignatious Wagner, you  
climb this rope *right* *NOW*, or I'll have Mama stuff and mount you!"  
The threat, the voice of authority, and the dreaded middle name worked  
their magic. Made him move.  
At least until he got to the top of the cliff, when he broke down and  
howled out all his misery for all the world to hear.  
Jimaine, his twin sister, didn't bother consoling him. She was busy  
cutting up the rope. One piece, she notted into a noose, and tossed over  
the edge.  
"If you want to keep your hide out of a museum," she said. "You and I  
will say that Stefan went mad and hung himself. You tried to stop him by  
cutting the rope, but it was too late."  
Kurt kept weeping.  
"And if you want *me* to keep quiet about what I saw, you'll do what I  
say."  
"Of course," he said. He didn't want anyone thinking him a murderer.  
God forgive him, it was his fault that Stefan had died. All his fault.  
"Anything. Just don't let them think I--"  
"Killed him?" Jimaine purred. "Promise me that you're mine.  
Betrothed."  
"Jimi?"  
"Promise!" she ordered.  
The crack of thunder and lightening was God's work, but it spurred  
Kurt's fear. "I promise to marry you when the time comes, and swear  
myself loyal to you."  
"Good," she gave him the noose. "Now climb down that cliff and tighten  
the noose around Stefan's neck. Remember to leave his body lying exactly  
the way you found it."  
Kurt gulped, but obeyed.  
Stefan was a mess. All broken and bloody, but he was smiling, somehow.  
Laughing at an invisible joke.  
Kurt swore he felt Stefan's ghost settle on his shoulder like a  
vulture as he followed Jimaine's orders. "I'm so sorry," he whispered to  
his friend's corpse, and touched a kiss to his dead cheek. "Forgive me?"  
The ghost just dug its claws in.  
He climbed back up, feeling dead inside.  
"You're loyal to me," said Jimaine, pulling him away from the cliff's  
edge. "You *owe* me. You owe me your life. Remember that."  
And Jimaine never wept.  
"I'll remember," Kurt whispered. "I'll never forget."  
They were twelve years old. 


	18. Part 18

Part 18 ^_^  
  
Judging by the queue to the guy's bathroom, Kurt was hogging the hot  
water, again. However, there was no jubilant singing from within, no  
annoying seek-and-destroy mission with the high notes.  
Kitty was almost glad. Almost.  
Her jubilation was cut off when Kurt emerged, spilling steam all over  
the ceiling. He looked bluer than his fur was.  
Something was eating him.  
Kitty resolved to find out what.  
  
The Elf reeked of loss.  
Logan was good with emotions and scent. A person's smell was unique -  
moreso in the Elf's case - but emotions all smelled alike. Thus, he  
followed the scent of loss and sorrow and clean, damp fur to his room,  
where he was finishing up on getting dressed.  
_Hm. Not a shiny as yesterday._ "What's up, Elf? Something happen in  
the family?"  
"Go away," he said.  
"Not until I get an answer," he said. "I let you say nuthin' last  
night, 'cause you were upset. I ain't gonna let you say nuthin' now.  
Spill it, Elf. What's turned ya from manic to depressive?"  
Sigh. "Jimaine." He gathered his things. "There. You have an answer.  
Now, if you don't mind, I don't want to be late."  
Logan let a growl escape his throat. Now, the kid was starting to  
smell scared. In his opinion, the whole thing stank.  
Stank *bad*.  
  
Kurt was quiet the whole drive to school. Quiet and sullen. He missed  
three open lines in as many minutes. Scott had to concentrate on  
driving, but he had to know what was wrong.  
_Hey, Jean,_ he thought. _You listening?_  
Jean glared at him. _I'm not doing it._  
_*What*? How did you--?_  
_You're getting really easy to read, lately,_ Jean 'said'. _The  
Professor's been getting better at telling when I 'head hop', and I'm in  
enough trouble, right now. So forget it._  
Scott sighed. Damn. He'd just have to do things the old-fashioned way.  
Therefore, when they stopped in his parking space, he hung back and fell  
into step with his friend and teammate.  
"Hey," he said.  
"Hey," said Kurt.  
"Hey," he said again. "You know; everyone's worried about you. What's  
up?"  
"Nothing you can help with, mein fruend. I made a promise I have to  
keep. That's it."  
"That's not *all* of it."  
"You can relax. I don't plan on jumping off any buildings. Or taking  
any pills, or anything like that."  
"Sure?"  
"Sure."  
"You *can* talk, you know," Scott offered.  
"Ja... but I don't want to drag you into my trouble."  
"What *sort* of trouble, damnit?"  
"A word of advice mein fruend - never cross a sorceress." And then he  
went off to class.  
_What the *hell*?_  
  
Kitty was frankly shocked to see Ray Crisp hanging out at her locker.  
Usually, he was content to hang out with the tougher crowd and give her  
a wide berth. In fact, Kitty preferred it that way, too.  
"Ray?" she asked. "What are you like, doing in the 'dweeb sector'?"  
"Um. Er. Uh. Yeah. Um. I -umuh- I gotchasumthin'." And he bought out a  
little box from behind his back. He tossed it at her and quickly left,  
face turning red.  
"Um. Like. Thanks, I think," Kitty managed, and opened the little box  
to see what was inside. It was a metal ID bracelet with her name on it.  
Bracelets. The non-relationship body decoration of choice.  
_Waitasecond... He couldn't. He isn't. *OmyGod*!_  
Ray *Crisp* had a crush on her.  
Ray "I don't give a rat's bleep" Crisp.  
It just didn't compute.  
There was a note in her locker from Hubert Hughes. Well, more like an  
advertising bill. There was a geeky Science Fiction party happening at  
someone's place - BYO plate if you had special dietary needs - the  
upcoming Friday afternoon. Hubert's scribbled note on the opposite side  
read: "CU There?"  
If she wasn't grounded, she'd have to think up an excuse not to go.  
Maybe Ray... Or maybe not.  
Hey, there was Kurt. And - someone new. She was a strawberry blonde  
and had the air of someone with power. Kurt, arm linked with hers, kept  
his eyes and head down.  
All she needed was the handle of a leash that was tied to Kurt's neck.  
_Whoa. Like, where did *that* image like, come from?_  
They were talking to each other in another language. It wasn't German,  
but it sounded a lot like it. Her voice was full of power. His was full  
of appology.  
Kurt looked *way* totally sad. Like he'd lost everything at once.  
  
The bell rang for lunch, and Ms Wrick yelled out the pages of the  
English assignment as excited teenagers headed for the door.  
"Remember to do pages thirteen to twenty-seven by tomorrow, I will be  
asking for your impressions and I do *not* mean Groucho Marx! Mr Wagner,  
can I have a word?"  
Kurt Wagner was uncharacteristically at the end of the hussle for the  
door. Usually, he was out of there like a bullet. "Jawohl, Frau'?"  
"Now, Kurt, I've noticed you've been a little - down, today," the more  
apt word would have been 'demoralized', but she had to go carefully. "Is  
something wrong? Something at home, maybe?"  
"Just girl trouble," he dismissed. "I'll be fine."  
The *last* time he'd said that, he'd nearly fainted from a supreme  
bout of the 'flu. Ms Wrick's personal Danger-ometer went into the amber  
zone, bordering on the red. "Sorry," she said, "I'm less inclined to  
believe you when you say that. Something *is* wrong, isn't it?"  
Kurt sighed. "Ja. I just can't talk about it."  
"Why? Are you in trouble?"  
"I don't want trouble, Frau'," he said.  
"There you are," said the new German girl. What was her name? Jimi-  
something? "Where have you been?"  
"Right here, Geliebter," said Kurt. "Frau' Wrick had to have a word  
with me."  
Jimi glared at her as if she were sizing up a rival. "Are you done?"  
she asked, voice full of honey and eyes full of venom. "Meine Kurti has  
to show me where the lunch room ist."  
"You two are a couple? How sweet," said Ms Wrick.  
"Ja," said Kurt. "Sweet."  
That was the voice of a teenager considering the unthinkable. Ms Wrick  
went straight to Mr Kian, the school counsellor.  
"Ms Wrick? Something's up."  
"Yes," she confessed. "Do you know Kurt Wagner?"  
"Yeah, the German boy. Has a thing about being touched. Otherwise,  
he's pretty well-centred. What about him?"  
"I think he's thinking about suicide."  
Mr Kian whistled. "It's always the happy ones, isn't it? The popular  
ones always think they're alone, the happy ones have hidden  
depressions..." he sighed. "M'kay. I'll contact his guardian with your  
concerns. It'd help if you told me what you noticed, too."  
"Well, for starters, he couldn't look at me for the whole class..."  
  
Kurt held his arms over the white-hot ball of pain under his ribs, and  
fought to breathe. "Why?" he asked. "I did everything you said..." Dead  
twin brother or not, she still knew how to hit. And her array of rings  
acted just like a knuckleduster.  
Jimaine patted him on the shoulder. "I just wanted to see you on your  
knees before me. You can't say you don't deserve it."  
He did. And he knew he did. It was all his fault. "No," he whispered.  
"I can't."  
"Good boy," she took his lips, almost drawing blood with her teeth.  
"You're mine, Kurt Wagner. All mine. Body and soul."  
_Just the body, 'lover',_ he thought at her as he recovered his feet.  
_God has my soul._  
He took her to the lunch room, bought her a meal at the cafeteria -  
which happened to be the most expensive thing on the menu - and  
something for himself to allay suspicions. Then he took her to the table  
she selected. One that isolated him from his friends.  
"Hmp," said Jimaine. "Didn't take the little Schwarzes Schlampe long  
to hook up with a buck of her own kind."  
Kurt knew she was sitting next to Evan. "You know," he said, "you're  
awfully racist for a Gypsy..."  
"She *is* black," said Jimaine. "Or at least, that's what they *call*  
themselves, wouldn't you agree?"  
_Dangerous turf..._ "Some of them call themselves black," he said,  
picking at his lasagne.  
Jimaine smirked.  
  
"So what's he doing?" asked Amanda for the umptieth time.  
"He's like, playing with his food," said Kitty. "This is like, *so*  
dangerous."  
"After he ordered the lasagne?" Evan said. "You *bet* it's dangerous.  
K-man never lets a calorie escape his *sight*..."  
"They're talking," said Scott. "Or she's talking and he's kind of  
agreeing with her. It's not what *I'd* call happy-couple behaviour."  
"As if *you'd* know," muttered Rogue, just below the volume necessary  
to start a fight.  
Not that Scott really wanted one.  
"Coloured letters," Amanda murmured. "Coloured letters... What the  
heck is that supposed to *mean*?"  
"Leave it alone," said Kitty. "When Kurt gets cryptic, you can spend  
like, *ages* with like, a thesaurus and junk to find out what he's like,  
talking about."  
"Now come *on*," said Scott. "His English isn't *that* bad... He just  
uses that 'I don't know the English' act when he's trying to cover up  
something. You know - avoid the issue?"  
Amanda snapped her fingers. "God, I'm so *dumb*..." she said. "He  
meant *blackmail*! She's blackmailing him into this."  
Evan screwed up his face. "But *what* could K-man be hiding that she  
could hold over him like *that*?"  
"And how do we like, find *out*?"  
"Don't ask Jean," said Scott. "She's had a sudden attack of morals."  
"HSSSH!" Amanda made a subtle keep-it-down motion with her hand.  
"Incoming. School counsellor at one o'clock."  
Kitty launched into babble mode. "So did I like, tell you guys about  
whoserface? You like, *know* her... she's like, *so* totally youknow,  
like, whack? I'm like, minding my own business in the bathroom, like,  
washing my hands and she like, *walks* in and like, tries to throw me  
like, *out*. I mean. Ew. I like, still had like *soap* on my hands and  
she's like, "you'll stink anyway, Pryde" and I'm like, "you can tell  
under like, *your* stench" and then she like, *hits* me for no reason? I  
mean like, talk about *rude*..."  
"Can I interrupt for a minute, M'kay?" said Mr Kian. He sat on an  
empty corner of the table. "You guys are Kurt's friends, aren't you? You  
hang out most of the time..."  
"Yeah," said Rogue. "Is he in any trouble?"  
"You see, that's what I'm worried about. I've been lead to believe  
that Kurt may be going through a difficult time, M'kay? One of his  
teachers has noticed a marked change in his attitude. I was wonding if  
any of you knew what might be up with him, M'kay?"  
"He hasn't said very much to us," said Amanda. "All I know is there's  
this betrothal thing between her and Jimi Szardos... She's kinda taking  
it *way* seriously and he had to break up with me because of it."  
"Wow," said Mr Kian. "And Jimi would be the young lady he's sitting  
with right now?"  
"Yeah."  
"Do you know if this is at all legal?"  
"It might be for Heirelgart," Kitty shrugged. "I mean like, who knows,  
right?"  
"Mmmmm... 'Kay..." Mr Kian stood up. "I'm gonna have to talk to him to  
find out. Keep your eyes and ears open for me, M'kay? We don't want this  
to get too difficult for him, M'kay?"  
Just about everyone around the table surrendered to temptation and  
said, "M'kay."  
  
Charles Xavier watched Kurt enter, and picked up the veritable cloud  
of gloom that followed him like a dark aura. Under the depression, he  
could sense fear steeped in guilt and shame.  
He was almost sick with it.  
"Kurt," the Professor began, "we're all worried about you and your  
recent change in emotional outlook. Perhaps, you could share something  
that could help us help you?"  
A smattering of memories. Rain. Rope. A knife. A crying child. Fire.  
Jimaine's smile. The sound of screams. A branch, and looking up into the  
falling rain.  
"Please, Professor," he begged. "Please don't get involved." A vision,  
stark and accurate, the Professor lying in a pool of his own blood. "I  
don't want you mixed up in this." The memory of pain, sharp and burning,  
from his tail to his vertebrae.  
Nothing made much sense to Charles. "Kurt, we just want to help you.  
We can't fail but notice how quickly you've gone from top to bottom  
since your breakup with Amanda..."  
"That's ancient history, now," he said. "Dead and buried." A grave.  
The feel of a broken heart. A name. Stefan.  
"It was yesterday," said Xavier.  
"That's why it's history." _A lot can happen in one day... A world can  
change._ "Please. Just leave us alone. You shouldn't get involved."  
"Us?" Charles quoted. "Who's in this with you?"  
"I--" _Say it! Confess! Let it out! He already knows... Shut up._ "I  
said the wrong word... mein Englisch ist schlecht."  
"Kurt," he sighed. "You know you can't pull that act with me."  
_He knows!_  
"If you're willing to talk, I'm willing to listen. If necessary, I can  
keep this strictly between us."  
_He knows. He knows everything... He's just giving me a chance to  
confess before I go..._ The rest of his thought trailed off into  
whirlwind of possibilities and dreads. "Who decides?" Kurt asked.  
"Pardon?"  
"Who decides if it's necessary? How do I *know* you won't tell?"  
_Give him the rope, Charles, not the straw,_ he told himself. _The  
boy's obviously drowning..._ "You have my word that whatever you need to  
say to me will not be repeated - by *any* means - to anyone else unless  
*you* give me permission."  
Kurt sat down and huddled up on himself. "It was murder, mein Herr.  
Murder... and it was all my fault." 


	19. Part 19

Part 19 ^_^  
  
Murder.  
No word captivated the mind and heart like it.  
Charles' heart siezed in dread. Kurt? A murderer? It just didn't fit  
with the quiet and gentle boy he knew. How could *Kurt*, who tried his  
best to look up instead of down, commit something so heinous? What could  
possibly drive him to *do* such a thing?  
The first question from Charles' lips was, "What?" Not who or how or  
why, but a disbelieving what.  
"Murder, Professor. M-U-R-D-E-R. Murder." A single tear slid down his  
face. "My brother Stefan died... because of me."  
Now he was just plain confused. "But - Kurt... I thought your parents  
only had girls..."  
"Ach... Aussenseiter..." Kurt sighed. "His name was Stefan Szardos. He  
- we were more than friends. In a different Universe... maybe we *were*  
brothers. But he *was* my brother, anyway."  
The whirlwind of memories made Charles wince. Summers in the circus,  
seasons flying like leaves. Trying to be the Three Muskateers whilst  
various sisters wanted to play Princess. Sharing experiences of a  
lifetime in a few seconds. "What happened?" he asked.  
The crying child. The knife. Falling. The pain. "He slowly went mad.  
He had the Sight, mein Herr. The ability to See the unseen. The future,  
the past, spirits both good and evil... But it came to him too young..."  
Walks in the mountains, and Jimi picking flowers and smiling. "He could  
See, but he couldn't understand. The things he Saw... they were as real  
to him as a chair or a table. He'd attack them, and wonder why he  
couldn't touch them. He was - confused. Sometimes, he'd even See things  
that Margali - Frau Szardos - couldn't See."  
Charles put his hand on Kurt's arm. "Take your time," he urged.  
"Whatever you feel comfortable in telling me... that's fine."  
"He got a knife. He wanted to kill a baby," said Kurt. "He said it was  
a demon." The crying child. The feeling of falling. The stench of  
brimstone. "We fought. I got him out of there. I guess I teleported, but  
it was too much for me... we were knocked out by the trip." The storm.  
The mad look in Stefan's eyes as he told the young Kurt that *he* was  
the real demon. A glimpse of brightly-coloured cloth in the  
underbrush... "He wanted to send me to Hell. He had the knife. We  
fought. And fell." Fear. Pure fear. "I killed him. My brother. Her twin.  
And Jimaine means to see I pay."  
"How?" asked Charles. Whether he meant how Kurt could do such a thing,  
or how Jimaine meant to seek revenge, he didn't know.  
"That's why you must *not* get involved," he said. "*Any* of you. If  
you do, she'll start with *you* - and I'll have to watch." Kurt sobbed.  
"You can't beat a sorceress, mein Herr. You can't even hope to beat  
one..." The feel of a ghost hanging on to his shoulder. Dark and  
malevolent. Digging its claws in. "You can only pray for mercy."  
  
Jimaine scratched the back of her hand. So. Someone was talking about  
her. No matter. She'd caught Kurt in her spell long ago. His mouth and  
his mind wouldn't agree for as long as he felt guilty for Stefan's  
death, and his mouth would forever damn him, and make him look guiltier  
than he was.  
She'd tie him to her deeper every day, tangling him up like a spider  
tangles a fly, until he'd be helpless to resist her. Eager for the  
opportunity to gain her favour.  
She'd show them. She'd show them all...  
Especially *Mother*.  
For Kurt, it had been one dreadful day, but Jimaine had been  
manipulating events for *years*...  
  
It had started innocently enough, as a field trip with Mother,  
gathering herbs. She'd bought Mother a pretty flower and asked her what  
it was.  
"That's Freude Des Sommers, it likes the high ground and the hotter  
part of the year. An odd little flower. It can bring out a Seer's  
potential, but only when they're old enough. Fifteen at the youngest,  
and even then, they're at risk of madness. Don't you *dare* eat or drink  
any of this plant's leaves until you're Seventeen or I say so. Whichever  
comes first."  
Her mouth said, "Yes, Mama," but her mind started ticking things over.  
Mother's magic was the Winding Way, where a practitioner could be all-  
powerful one moment, and magically as weak as a kitten the next. The  
struggle, of course, was to eliminate or incapacitate those ahead on the  
Winding Way, because being first meant dictating the path of all that  
followed.  
Jimi looked at Stefan, who was also gathering plants for Mama. As the  
eldest, he was immediately ahead of her on the Way. He had it easier,  
since he was first-born. Jimi had to struggle with *everything*, she had  
to *fight* for what was rightfully hers.  
Some who walked the Winding Way start their killing awful young.  
Jimi was five.  
She gathered a posy of Freude Des Sommers in secret, hiding it in her  
bodice, and tying it under her bed (bottom bunk, of course, for the  
second-born) to dry. Then, ever-so-carefully, she'd slip a leaf or two  
into Stefan's food.  
In a year, he was making predictions. Accurate ones.  
When he was nine, he started Seeing ghosts. Most notably, Kurti's Opa  
watching over him; but there were others.  
On his tenth birthday, Margali started giving him a special tea,  
designed to inhibit his Sight until the time was right.  
Jimaine just doubled her efforts, and whispered poison into her  
brother's ear while Mother slept.  
True, Margali could See; but Jimi could Block the Sight when she  
wanted to. It was her gift. The little leaves of Freude Des Sommers were  
invisible to Stefan and Margali alike.  
Then one night, Stefan woke up screaming, and swore blind that Death  
was coming after him.  
That was a year before he hung himself with Kurti's tail, mad as a  
march hare. Perhaps madder. Maybe he thought that killing himself would  
satisfy his visions of Death. Maybe he was right.  
Jimaine didn't care. She'd watched, hidden, as they fought and he  
died. She'd laughed in the rain at the feel of the power coming to her.  
One little leap ahead in the Way.  
And next in the Way, her mother.  
It would take more than just leaves to get rid of her, but Jimaine had  
been doing her research, during her hobby-work of eliminating her  
brother. There was an infallible recipe for an unbeatable warrior who  
would protect her, and eliminate each of her rivals in the Way.  
All she needed to do was bear the child of a demon who swore himself  
to her.  
And what do you know. There was a demon handy. Her brother had said  
so.  
And Stefan had never been wrong.  
  
"You're - staying with her... to *protect* us?"  
"Ja." Kurt was bleak. "I'm starting to think she's as mad as her  
brother, only far more subtle. I'm her focus. Gott forbid she ever  
changes it. You have no idea what a sorceress is capable of." The  
horrible whispers about what happend to Jakob Weiss. The mysterious  
affliction of ulcers in the mouth of the Statleindorf's chief gossip,  
that sprang up whenever she told a lie. The letter that said that the  
General had a fine case of heamorrhoids ever since he started changing  
the Heirelgart circus and irritating the troupe that stayed with him.  
The perfect weather that surrounded a certain camped wagon in  
Heirelgart.  
Charles nodded. He knew well the havoc that magic could wreak. "I  
promise I'll tread carefully, but I have to warn the others to do so as  
well."  
"Yes," said Kurt. "That would be for the best."  
The minute he got back to the institute, Charles was running an  
archive search. So much time had passed... Four years, maybe a little  
more. It was truly a good thing that a telepath could learn quickly,  
sometimes to the point of simply borrowing the understanding of the  
teacher.  
There, he'd found the archives of the newspaper that served  
Heirelgart, Statleindorf, and a few other villages. Stefan Szardos'  
death got a full-page write-up, owing to almost seven years' worth of  
notoriety in the area beforehand. Pictures of the twelve-year-old  
Jimaine showed a stoic, almost passive face. Reporters characterised her  
as 'brave'. Kurt had refused to be photographed, but the reporters had  
said he was 'devestated'.  
Charles could swear that Jimaine's images showed a hint of a smile.  
Going back, he detected a growing pattern of madness and visions. The  
classic signs of poisoning by a certain mountain herb - one never given  
to anyone under the age of fifteen, and even then, with severe  
misgivings against it.  
Mystics used it sparingly in order to bring on what they called 'the  
Sight'.  
It was murder, definitely; but Charles was almost sure that Kurt  
wasn't the murderer.  
The question was, did he truly blame himself? Or was he protecting the  
guilty party? 


	20. Part 20

Part 20 ^_^  
  
Kurt was, as the people of Heirelgart put it, making mulch when he was  
given manure. He'd made a promise, and Fate saw to it that he'd have to  
keep it. It was a bad promise, and seemed to land him ever deeper into  
pain and sorrow, but it *was* a promise.  
He'd keep his word until either death or Jimaine freed him.  
So he was better off going along with it and not fighting it any more.  
The Professor knew, at least, and had promised to keep the secret. He  
neither condemned nor commended Kurt for his actions. He just listened,  
and pleaded doing research before telling the school psychiatrist that  
Kurt was just going through a difficult time, and leaving them on their  
own.  
Kurt was excused for the rest of the day, leaving him plenty of time  
to prepare for his 'date' with Jimaine. The actuality was that he was  
under orders to take her out. Given the contraints of his budget,  
combined with his appetite, it would have to be somewhere that went in  
for big helpings.  
Bernie's Steak House seemed to be the place to go.  
But first - flowers.  
He traipsed all over Bayville looking for the right florist, in this  
case, one that imported German flowers. He found it at the seventh place  
he looked in.  
"Yes, we do get flowers from overseas," said Hi-I'm-Trish as she  
chewed gum behind the counter.  
"Do you get a flower called Freude Des Sommers?" asked Kurt.  
"Oh, yes," Trish cooed. "It's quite a popular flower for weddings.  
They look *so* cute as a bouquet for the little flower girls."  
"Ja," said Kurt. "Well, there's this girl I'm taking out and it  
happens to be her favourite flower, see..."  
"Oh, that's *sweeeeeeet*," Trish squealed. "As a large bouquet,  
though, you might want to mix other flowers in there with them."  
"I was thinking the exact same thing," Kurt grinned. "I was also  
thinking roses. Red and white."  
"Oooo," said Trish. "Romantic."  
"Ja. I hope so."  
  
Jimaine found him waiting at the designated spot. He'd actually  
cleaned up and gone quasi-formal. Or maybe his hologram had. It was  
hard to tell without choosing to see the True Reality of things - and  
that tended to get unpleasant. Especially near mirrors, which showed  
souls.  
At least he'd prepared. Jimaine smiled. Mayhap her covert spell had  
worked already. Her beast bore flowers in one arm and a box under the  
other. His face, though, was carefully neautral, showing neither glee  
nor gloom at seeing her at the appointed time.  
"Did I make you wait?" she asked.  
"There's no such thing," he said.  
Good. He still knew the lore. Sorcerers make their *own* time. Nobody  
ever complains to a sorcerer about tardiness, because transformation  
into a frog often offends. Jimaine smirked and held out her hand.  
"Of course," said Kurt, rising and bowing with a flourish.  
"Schokolade, milady, the finest I could find."  
The presented package had the plastic overcover unbroken. Proof that  
nothing inside had been consumed. This had to be a supreme test of his  
fortitude, since even she could smell the chocolate within.  
Kurt was practically hiding behind the bouquet, eyes peeking over the  
top in a calculatingly cute, puppy-dog way. No doubt, it would soften  
anyone else's heart, but Jimaine had turned hers to stone long, long  
ago.  
Then she noticed the flowers.  
Freude Des Sommers, mixed with roses. Red for blood, and white for  
innocence. Since he was giving it to her, it meant only one thing. He  
knew the blood of murder was on her hands, and that he was innocent of  
the crime.  
She took the subtle insult with a cold, cold glare. "So you worked it  
out," she hissed. "Congratulations. However, it will do you no good."  
Jimaine placed her left palm over his mouth and said, "I bind thee  
against speaking of my brother's death to any living or dead. To any  
friend or foe. To any beast or burden."  
His jaws clenched as the magic flowed, signifying that the spell was  
working, and would continue to work for as long as she wanted it to.  
Jimaine took her hand away. "Have you told anyone?"  
"I -- Jimaine... I don't understand," he protested. "I thought they  
were your favourite flower. You were picking them all the time back ho--  
in Heirelgart."  
"You remember your place, my demon," she hissed. "I can bind more than  
your mouth."  
  
"Jean, I need your help," said Scott. He hung on her bedroom door's  
frame and looked like he'd just gone ten rounds with Logan.  
"Are you all right?" Jean searched his surface thoughts and emotions.  
Confusion. Fear. "Did something happen?"  
"I don't know. I just -- I feel weird," he confessed. The knuckles of  
his hand were going white, and he shook like he was fighting himself.  
"Ever since I came home, I --" he sighed. "Jean, I can't stop thinking  
about Jimaine... but I love *you*."  
Jean raised an eyebrow. She'd known about Scott's crush on her,  
practically ever since they'd first met. She was used to young men  
thinking of her like that, especially Scott, and she'd largely tried to  
carry on as normal. This latest development was just plain confusing.  
"Can I have a look?"  
He shook his head, even as he said, "*Please*, Jean. Do it quickly."  
Obviously, he was fighting something that was slowly taking him over.  
Jean crossed the distance between them and put her hands to his temples,  
instructing, "Relax if you can," before she went in.  
Scott's thoughts were curled up tight in a defensive ball, and all  
around them was a thick weight of something else. Something Jean  
couldn't define, but she knew what it contained. Jimaine.  
"We have to see the Professor," she announced. "I don't know what this  
is, but it's serious."  
Scott balked, even though he clearly wanted to go, so Jean solved the  
issue by lifting him telekinetically.  
"Thanks," he murmured.  
The Professor didn't even have to look deep to announce, "He's been  
touched by sorcery. A love spell of sorts."  
"A *love* spell?"  
"Yes," Xavier explained. "The spell introduces a gradual obsession  
with the caster. Under the right conditions, the subject will think  
they're in love. It does not, however, have any real effect on the  
heart, which is why true love is a sure cure."  
Scott sighed. "But - Jean doesn't love me back," he sighed.  
"How could this happen? asked Jean. "Scott's hardly been *near*  
Jimaine."  
"Odd," said Xavier. "If I recall correctly, the spell requires a  
sample of hair... this is most perplexing."  
  
How *did* it happen?  
Observe, if you will, a simple comb. No object could possibly be more  
ordinary, even though it's owner - strictly speaking - isn't. It's made  
out of black plastic and costs roughly a dollar, and it usually stays  
next to a pair of antique brushes that are infinitely more valuable.  
Observe the events of that morning. Scott, with a worse case of bed-  
head than usual, breaks his own comb whilst attempting to de-snarl his  
hair. Thinking nothing of his actions, he walks down the hall and  
filches the comb mentioned above. He leaves it on his dresser, replete  
with a few loose hairs stuck in the teeth.  
Later that morning, Kurt steals the comb back to fix his hair. He's in  
a hurry and doesn't bother cleaning it, as is his habit.  
Observe the few loose hairs that become enmixed with Kurt's indigo  
tresses.  
Now observe Jimaine, slapping Kurt for some misdemeanor. She  
deliberately curls her fingers in order to snatch some loose hairs from  
his head. She walks away with her prize, not knowing that her spell has  
been polluted.  
Because amongst the indigo strands she obtained, there lies at least  
one brown one. From Scott.  
Alone, Jimaine binds her captured hairs in a few strands of her own.  
"I bind thee to me, body and mind. Think nothing but of me. See nothing  
but of me. Feel nothing but of me. I seal thee to me with mine hair,  
mine words," she pricked her finger on a hairpin, and sealed the knot of  
hair with her own blood, "and mine life fluid. Me mine forevermore, or  
until I choose to release thee."  
And of course, true love is a natural cure. 


	21. Part 21

Part 21 ^_^  
  
"Ahem."  
"Um."  
"Well."  
"Isn't this nice?"  
"Amanda," said Evan. "That's the third time you've said that."  
She sighed. "I'm sorry. I thought this whole rebound-on-the-'right'-  
colour thing would -youknow- make things easier at home."  
"I thought your dad was pretty happy," said Evan.  
"Huh," said Amanda.  
"Deeper story?"  
"You *bet* there is. All of my brothers thought Kurt was cool,  
youknow? He taught 'em all how to cuss in German, and he showed Danny  
how to juggle, and..." she sniffed. "I miss my fuzzy."  
"Yeah," said Evan. "I get *that*."  
"And now the whole house is - I dunno - steaming, now that I'm going  
out with you. Mike even threatened to 'pound five colours of shit' out  
of you if you did me wrong."  
"Woo. K-man knows how to get liked," said Evan.  
"I think it's because he's completely colour-blind. And body-blind. He  
just doesn't see people by their skin."  
Evan grinned. "I guess being blue and demonic-looking does that to a  
guy."  
Amanda giggled. Then she sniffed again. "I thought 'e was cute..." she  
whimpered.  
_*Why* did Amanda's dad *insist* on this date from hell? She's never  
gonna forget the K-man..._ Evan sighed. Time to bring out the big guns.  
"It's okay," he said. "See. I'm sorta like a substitute fuzzball." He  
reached into an inner pocket and bought out a slightly abused piece of  
paper. "He and I are the only people who can read his handwriting, and  
he gave me this note for you. Lessee if I can get the intonation  
right..." Evan cleared his throat, "Meine Geleibt," he read. "At great  
risk I had to write this to you. I simply *had* to let you know--"  
"Your German accent *sucks*," she laughed around tears. "Here. Let me  
see." She peeked at the paper, bugged her eyes, and let Evan keep it. "I  
don't get it. All his *other* notes to me have been really neat."  
"K-man can only write two ways," said Evan. "Slow and neat or fast and  
messy. He just can't 'do' fast and neat. It's the fingers. He was kinda  
rushed writing this one."  
"Yeah," Amanda sighed. "Jimaine's looking over his shoulder the whole  
time."  
"Shall I read on?" he asked. "Sucky accent and all?"  
She smiled. "Yeah. Read on."  
"Ahem. At great risk I write this to you. I simply *had* to let you  
know that you are forever and always in mein heart. Though I may walk  
beside Jimaine, I wish I were with you. I can't tell you of the hold she  
has over me, but know that I'd risk everything that is mine to be with  
you."  
"Mmmmm..." said Amanda.  
Evan continued. "My thoughts are with you, always; just as my fears  
are for you and my friends. Please, meine Geleibt, keep something - some  
symbol of something you believe in - with you at all times. Faith will  
protect you, but it can't protect me. You *must* be protected, because I  
can't bear to think of you in any danger. Be safe, my beloved, and be  
well." Evan's imitation of Kurt had long since fallen. _Jeez... this  
sounds like a suicide note. This is so wrong._  
Amanda had obviously come to the same conclusion. "You've gotta show  
that to the Professor."  
Evan nodded. "*Yeah*."  
  
"Alas, Geliebter, this is the best I could afford for us."  
"It looks like a *barn*," she said. "I *trust* you got us a *booth*. I  
refuse to lower myself to sitting on a *haybale*."  
"Vas? We used to sit on haybales all the time."  
"I am no longer a *child*," she said, voice threatening. "You would do  
well to remember that."  
Thank *God* he'd asked for somewhere secluded and 'romantic'. That  
automatically got you a corner booth. "Never fret, Geliebter," he  
smoothed, keeping up the act of being suave and flirtatious. "I make it  
my business to know what a lady desires." He leaned on the counter.  
"Reservation for Szardos and Wagner?"  
The bimbo behind the counter, who wore an 'Ask for the rump' T-shirt,  
chewed her gum and pressed buttons. "Here it is," she said in a fake  
southern accent, "Table number twenny-wun. Fah-low me." Then she began  
reciting her script in robotic and unconvincing tones. "Wey-ulcum to  
Burnee's ste-yuk hauws, whar evrythin' is iyun Teyxus. Yeehaw. Iffun yew  
should wawnt fer sumpthin', yew just clayng on thet thar cow beyul and  
help'll come-a-runnin."  
"[What did she say?]" Jimaine asked in Romani.  
Kurt dutifully translated.  
"Jest sit taht," she continued, "Yawr waitreyuss wiyull be alawng  
quicker'n flahs on a cauw pah."  
Kurt translated again.  
"That's rather *slow*, isn't it?" said Jimaine. "Your average fly  
takes up to an hour to find fresh dung."  
"I just read the script, lady," she droned. "The real wait's ten to  
fifteen minutes. Help yourselves to the peanuts." And then she left,  
heading back to the foyer.  
Kurt winced at something she said to a waitress.  
"What did she say?"  
Kurt cleared his throat. "Foreign wiseasses on twenty-one. Get Daria."  
Jimaine absently helped herself to a peanut. "My, what a - fascinating  
- place you've found for a first date. Next time, use one of those  
credit cards you supposedly hate. Or perhaps three. I am not content to  
*wallow* in the *muck* I was raised in."  
"Wasn't there love, too?"  
Jimaine rolled her eyes. "*Gott*, you're naive..."  
"Ahem," A rather bored-looking teen in glasses, Bernie's Steak House  
uniform and combat boots took a breath and read from a card in monotone.  
"Yee-haw. My name's Daria an' Ah'll be yur - gopher - fer this evnin'.  
Yew all jast ask fer it an' Ah'll go fer it lahk a shawt." She sighed  
and put the card away. "My life has reached a new low. Here's your  
menus," they flopped onto the table. She took out a notebook. "What's  
your order?"  
"The mega mongo meal looks good," said Kurt. "Medium well, danke. And  
the baked potato."  
"I'll have the seafood platter," said Jimaine, picking the most  
expensive meal on the card. "With ceasar salad on the side."  
"M cubed and cooked, spud, fried bait aaaaannnnnd Caligula," said  
Daria as she scribbled in her notebook. "Anything for desert?"  
"Schokolade mudslide, danke," said Kurt.  
"Parfait paradise," said Jimaine "With all the trimmings."  
"Mud pie and jello cup. Right. Drinks?"  
"Do you have a wine list?" said Jimaine.  
"You're kidding me," said Daria. "Closest this place has is a keg, and  
you're both underage."  
"Tch! *America*..." Jimaine scoffed.  
Kurt smiled nervously. "We'll have soda, won't we, Geliebter?"  
"*Ice-cream* soda," corrected Jimaine.  
"Two ice-cream sodas, then," said Kurt. "Dankeschoen."  
Daria made a note, then she read from the card. "Ah'll hop raht tew  
iyut lahk a-- oh *God*... Ahem. Lahk a li'l ole bunny wiyuth a howt  
foot." She sighed and trudged off. "The things I do for college  
tuition..."  
  
"Ah, Kitty. You have a visitor," the Professor announced.  
_I'm going to kill him,_ Kitty thought. _I'm going to kill them both._  
Hubert Hughes stood up and smiled. "Hi," he said. "You -ah- didn't say  
anything about tonight, so -uhm- I thought I'd come over and-- You never  
said you were grounded, Kitty."  
"It's like, embarressing *enough* having to like, clean toilets and  
junk without like, the whole school having to like, hear about it," said  
Kitty. "And the whole school had *better* not hear about it."  
"I don't *gossip*," said Hubert. "And even if I *did*, I'd never  
gossip about *you*."  
That twitch under her eye was back. "Well... Like, I *am* grounded, so  
I can't really--"  
"I think a little reprieve may help boost your spirits," said Xavier.  
"And Hubert is such a nice young man."  
_He's a *GEEK*!_ Her mind screamed.  
_You need to work on your judgement skills, Kitty,_ the Professor  
thought back. _The sooner, the better._  
_I'm doomed..._  
"I'm *not* going out like this," she said, gesturing at her blah  
clothes - the stuff she wore during chores because she didn't care what  
happened to it.  
"There's more than enough time to go clean up and change," said  
Hubert. "I - I really just came by to see if you were -youknow- okay."  
_Eeeeewwww..._  
"Go ahead, Kitty. After the hard work you've put in, you deserve a  
little break."  
_Doomed!_ She thought as she trudged towards her room. _I'm *doomed*!_ 


	22. Part 22

Part 22 ^_^  
  
"...i'm doomed..."  
"What was that?"  
"Nothing," Kitty lied. She should have taken a cue from Hubert's dress  
code - for want of a better word. Now she felt like a sore thumb.  
The population of the party - for want of a better word - was mostly  
male. The few females sharing the room were dressed similarly to the  
guys. Jeans and a T-shirt proclaiming their loyalty to something that  
belonged, in Kitty's humble opinion, to what she referred to as the  
'geek channels'.  
Food was buffet-style buckets of nibbles and a contributions jar with  
the word 'pizza fund' scrawled on a piece of paper taped to its side.  
Hubert trawled his pockets for money and scattered the resultant coinage  
and single note into the pizza fund.  
Kitty, blushing, removed a couple of twenties from her clutch-purse  
and stuffed them into the jar. They looked out of place amongst the  
fives and ones. She quickly covered by grabbing some Cheez Doodles(tm)  
and snacking on them.  
Her nice blue dress belonged in a nice restaurant. *NOT* in Geekland.  
An androgynous, lanky stringbean emerged from the kitchen with a bowl  
of steaming cocktail franks and noticed the jar. "Hubie, you *dog*,"  
cooed the stringbean. "Trust you to find a date who's a big spender."  
The tall creature with the Farscape T-shirt dug into a pants pocket and  
produced fifteen and change. "Thanks, kiddo. I was starting to feel  
freaky."  
"Well, if you did, Sara; you're right at home."  
That was a *Sara*? Didn't she know what padded bras were for?  
"Hey folks!" A pudgy, asthmatic doughball thundered down from the  
ground level. "Ready for a good time?"  
"Aye, Captain!" Cheered the room.  
"We have an impressive collection of -ahem- 'sandwiches' to appreciate  
tonight..."  
Whistles and hoots.  
"As well as a new set of music videos, both downloaded and original,  
which will be playing when the pizzas get here."  
Laughter.  
Hubert guided her to the couch, which was also inhabited by someone  
with far too many front teeth and half the Golden Gate bridge in their  
headgear.  
Kitty kept Hubert between herself and Headgear.  
The lights went down, and the screen lit up.  
_Oh, God, I'm like, totally *DOOMED*..._  
  
"Hello Professor," said Evan. Amanda was trailing after him.  
Charles raised an eyebrow. "I take it tonight's 'date' was a little -  
er..."  
"Dismal?" Amanda supplied. She'd been crying. "Got it in one. Kurt  
wrote me a goodbye."  
"A really *worrying* goodbye," said Evan. "Sounds like he's looking at  
tall buildings."  
"This Jimaine is nothing but bad news," Amanda supplied. "She's  
killing him."  
"I doubt if I'd go *that* far," said Charles. "Certainly, Kurt's been  
a little *depressed*, but--"  
"Professor..." Scott staggered into the room, fighting with his left  
hand. "Make it *stop*... It's trying to call some really expensive  
florists."  
Amanda made a face. "Something truly *weird* is going on, here."  
Charles winced. He'd really hoped to keep this under wraps. "I'm  
afraid Scott's run afoul of a sorcerous love spell. I've been trying to  
find a cure, but I'm not a very magical person."  
"Sorcery," Amanda echoed. "My grandaddy had a *lot* of weird stories,"  
she said. "I didn't believe half of them, but I'm starting to think they  
weren't *all* nonsense. He told me that part of the war effort involved  
putting a hex on Hitler. They got hold of all the magical types they  
could find, a sorceror, a wizard, a wiccan and a mystic; and tried to  
get them to work together to hex the guy. It didn't work. And didn't  
work 'cause none of the magics were compatible. Just about anyone on the  
planet can work mysticism, but you can't fight sorcery with it."  
"Damn..." Charles slumped. "Then there's no hope."  
"Not really, sir," said Amanda. "You *can* foul it up. If I were to  
cast the same spell on Scott, but a *mystic* spell, both spells would  
kind of implode."  
"How kind of is kind of?" Scott asked.  
"Well... for a while, the original spell will be kind of amplified.  
You'll have no control over yourself whatsoever."  
Scott whimpered.  
Charles patted his hand. "I'll come up with a viable excuse for the  
school."  
"I can't go to school like *this*!" Scott objected. "I can't go as  
some bibbling, brainwashed idiot, either."  
"You might not have a choice," said Charles. "The spell will have  
ultimate control over you."  
"Aw maaannnn..."  
"Thing is," said Amanda. "It's going to control you eventually. Right  
now you've got a choice. Get it over with fast - or slow."  
"I'm doomed," Scott groaned.  
  
"Isn't this nice?"  
"*You* might be happy in this - pit... but *I* deserve better  
surroundings."  
"Aw, come on," he gestured at the line dancing. "Enjoy the moment.  
This is the American equivalent of patterschoen."   
"It is?"  
"Look at their faces. Can't you see they hate it?"  
Jimaine looked. "Isn't that our waitress?"  
"Ja, I was wondering about that..."  
"No *wonder* the service sucks," she said.  
"Hey, it's supposed to be romantic, you know? Give us more time to  
whisper sweet nothings to each other. Isn't that what you wanted?"  
Jimaine examined his face. He was still rigidly inscrutable, not  
giving a clue away to any observer, casual or otherwise. She found  
herself wishing to be able to see his tail, since its constant twitching  
often gave away more about his emotions than he did.  
However, technology was immune to sorcery, and she had to settle for  
watching the holographic illusion for subtle hints about his emotions.  
Was her spell working? There seemed to be moments when it was having  
an effect on him, and others when he was resisting. Yet he was flipping  
between the two extremes instead of sliding slowly towards her desired  
result.  
She'd have to examine her knot in private, and check the flows of  
magic to see what, if anything, was going awry.  
"So," she said once the line-dancing music stopped deafening the  
crowd. "What else have you in store for me tonight?"  
Kurt winced. "I think we can forget the dancing part, ja? Your choice  
of movies, perhaps?"  
"What's the most expensive movie running?" Jimaine asked.  
"All movies are the same price, Geliebter," he said. "But you can buy  
seats in a luxury cinema - if you're over twenty-one." A nervous laugh.  
"They serve alcohol."  
"*Americans*..." Jimaine tisked. She immediately resolved to run up a  
huge bill at the concessions stand.  
  
Kitty gaped at the screen. "OmyGod..." she whispered. "That's Kevin  
Sorbo! What's he doing in Sci-Fi?"  
Hubert shrugged. "Guess he liked the role or something. Hey, actors  
can want to stretch out, you know."  
"How can this like, be a stretch from _Hercules_?"  
"In _Hercules_, he acted against people and CGI," said Hubert. "This  
show has practical effects."  
"Yeah," said Headgear. "Try treating an alien-looking freakazoid as  
human, sometime, and see the difference."  
_Ooops,_ thought Kitty. _Now I can like, see what the Professor was  
getting at..._  
  
"Damn. This one needs five hundred pure white rose petals and a  
diamond."  
"Ouch," noted Evan. "Mine needs 'Centaur spoor' - whatever that is."  
"They probably mean dung."  
"Eeeeeewwww..."  
"Oooo! Human hair, lavender, blood..." Amanda turned a page. "Sea  
salt... *damn*. What the hell is an aquamarine?"  
"It's a kind of gemstone," said the Professor, not looking up from his  
tome.  
"EEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWW!" Evan jerked away from the page. "That one  
needs an actual *heart*. And you've got to *eat* it. *Raw*...  
*EEEEWWW*!"  
"I'll thank you to keep your voice *down*, Evan," Xavier sighed.  
Evan used his pencil to turn the page.  
Amanda sniggered. "Every magic has its price, chile," she teased.  
"Urgh... This one needs menstrual blood..."  
"...eeeeeeeeewwwwwwww..."  
The Professor rolled his eyes in the universal way of sighing,  
_Kids..._ at the Universe at large.  
Evan snorted, then roared laughing. "Gotta love this one. One line.  
'Dance skyclad a front of hymm'."  
"Dude, that isn't even a spell," said Scott. "Oh, *gross*... This one  
wants mouse hearts, 'moon blood' - ew; *horse* testes and you stew it up  
and *feed* it to them... Yeaurgh."  
"You know, with a little paprika and oregano..." Amanda began.  
"Dude! Sick!"  
Amanda smirked. "There *was* more than one reason Kurt liked me, you  
know."  
"I can *guess*," said Evan. "You have his style of humour."  
The Professor just turned another page and sighed. 


	23. Part 23

Part 23 ^_^  
  
"Okay," said Amanda. "Lavender?"  
"Check."  
"Beeswax?"  
"Check."  
"Heart's Ease?"  
"Check."  
"Hair sample, *check*..." she tapped the clippings Scott and she had  
donated, intercombed in lamb's wool and spun into a wick that was now  
soaking gently in paraffin wax. "Turtledove feathers?"  
"Uuuuuuuhhhhhh..." said Scott.  
Amanda sighed. "Did you forget, or what?"  
"I didn't forget," he said. "I tried, I did. You said all I had to do  
was go out there with the seed and whistle and they'd come. They  
practically pecked me to death! *And* they wouldn't sit still for more  
than five seconds... I was running around out there for an *hour*!"  
"*Running*?" echoed Evan. "You never run at *birds*, Cyke. Everyone  
knows *that*."  
"*How* did you whistle?" asked Amanda.  
"Like this," Scott gave her an atypical here-doggy whistle.  
"Tch! *Completely* wrong." She got the birdseed off of him and marched  
outside. "Watch and learn." Amanda filled the palm of one hand with some  
seed, then put her fingers between her teeth for the sort of shrill  
whistle that could be used to shatter glass. Or at least eardrums.  
She was covered in birds in the space of a few seconds. All of them  
were acting completely tame, and treating her as if she were a beloved  
member of their family.  
Amanda petted a turtledove with her free hand, and carefully captured  
it. "Hello, pretty," she cooed. "You a boy or a girl, hm?"  
"Ew... Does it matter?"  
"Depends on how potent you want the spell," she said, scrutinising the  
bird's tail end. "There's a good girl," Amanda sang, petting the bird.  
"Have you got a loose feather for me? I hope you do..." Her hand came  
away with a downy feather. "*Good* girl."  
Evan picked the feather off her hand and put it in a plastic baggie.  
"Got it," he said. "One turtledove feather."  
Amanda was carefully combing her bird with her fingernails. "No more?  
Okay. Off you go." She launched the bird into the air, only to watch it  
circle and land on Scott's head. She smiled. "That's a good omen."  
The bird relieved itself.  
"Um..." said Amanda. "The books didn't say anything about *that*..."  
"Can you get this critter *off* of me?" pleaded Scott. The turtledove  
was pecking his head.  
"Quit standing so straight," suggested Evan. "Maybe she'll get the  
idea that you aren't a statue."  
Scott glared at him. "Maybe *you'd* like some bird--"  
"*Guys*..." Amanda scolded. "Just walk back in, will you? The dove  
aught to go home as soon as you move."  
The dove did, eventually, go home; but not before it left Scott with a  
little 'parting gift'.  
"...stoopid bird..." he muttered.  
Amanda cleared her throat. "Turtledove feathers. *Check*. White rose  
petals?"  
"Check," said Scott, who was blushing.  
"Heart-shaped mould?"  
"Check."  
"Double-boiler?"  
"You're lucky Aunty O has one of everything in this kitchen."  
"Evan..."  
"Okay. Check."  
"Right," said Amanda, clapping her hands. "Let's get started. Melt  
beezwax in double-boiler..."  
  
"My dove. My dearest. My heart's delight."  
"I think I might be ill," murmured Jimaine.  
"I told you sherbert bombs, fro-ghurt and bubblegum slushees didn't  
mix," whispered Kurt. "Just try and enjoy the movie."  
"I was *talking* about the movie."  
The screen couple frenched yet again, and the music swelled. Jimaine's  
personal involvement in the emotional sector dropped to negative  
figures. *Double* negative figures.  
She sneaked a look at Kurt. He wasn't really involved in the movie  
either. He'd just asked for 'something romantic' which was,  
unfortunately for them, also the title of the film. A film that was  
possibly the saddest piece of excrement that ever rated in the top ten  
of forgettable films.  
Her stomach churned. Kurt had been right. Her choice of expensive  
treats *didn't* mix well. "I mean it," she whispered. "I think I *am*  
going to be ill..."  
The concern was genuine, at least. "Want to go home?"  
"Ja." Jimaine nodded. "I don't think this movie is helping."  
Kurt gathered their things and they crept out into the night.  
  
"Now, we've all seen Farscape on TV," said Sara, who had the floor  
and, Kitty uncharitably added, almost the ceiling. "So you're all  
wondering what's so special about these episodes that we have tonight."  
Half the audience chorused, "What's so special about these episodes?"  
"Thankyou." Sara grinned. "What's special is that they're *uncut*.  
Completely unedited. That means that all the sexy bits and all the  
graphic violence is still in."  
What the--? *Farscape*? Sex and violence? Kitty had seen season one  
playing - usually with Kurt as the sole member of the audience - on one  
of the geek channels. Over and over again. The other seasons, Kurt  
claimed, weren't being shown because the local channels didn't know what  
to do about them.  
It was just a dumb puppet show anyway.  
"So to prepare you, I have a music video, here from a friend of a  
friend of a friend of mine... Roll it!"  
The screen lit up with the legend, "Cassanova Crichton"  
"Aw*right*..." whispered Hubert. "I've heard about this."  
Tom Jones' _Kiss_ blared out, overlain with images of John Crichton  
flirting with just about every female (and a few males) that were ever  
about.  
_Oh. My. *God*..._ thought Kitty. _Nobody was ever naked when *I* was  
watching..._  
Immediately afterwards, they played the premier episode; this time  
with the nude scene.  
Kitty was personally shocked that they'd let things like that happen  
in a puppet show.  
Then she saw the puppet character Pilot.  
"Whoah..." she whispered.  
Hubert was grinning. "You're looking at the pinnacle of Henson  
Creature Workshop art. Isn't he gorgeous?"  
Kitty had to nod. He was the coolest alien she'd ever seen. Part of  
her was screaming that she was turning into a geek, but it was being  
quickly overwhelmed by the part of her that was awed by the coolness of  
what she saw.  
*And* the hillarious things Hubert's friends were saying at the  
screen.  
By the time Pizza rolled around, Kitty didn't at all mind turning into  
a geek. It was kinda fun.  
  
The finished product looked like the sort of thing found in novelty  
shops. A heart-shaped candle with flowers and things in it. Even with  
the wick sewn in, it wasn't anything special.  
"Now what?" said Scott, who'd had time to wash his hair.  
"*Now* we leave it burning in you room. On a plate, of course. Don't  
want the wax getting everywhere or a fire starting." Amanda set the wax  
heart on a plate and gave it to Scott. "You'd better try to catch some  
shut-eye after you light it. There's no telling how much energy the two  
imploding spells will give - or take."  
"Right," said Scott, taking the thing. Was he sure about this? _Think  
of the alternatives..._ Right. He was sure.  
He marched up to his room like a man facing an execution and lit the  
stupid candle.  
Scott watched it burning for a little while. Stupid thing. It wasn't  
going to work. But it *was* odd that a wick made partially from human  
hair didn't reek. It smelled - here, he sniffed to make sure - sweet.  
Really, really sweet. Kinda made him sleepy.  
Amanda had told him to get some rest. Maybe it was a good idea. She  
did kind of have his best interests at heart. Sweet girl. But not as  
sweet as Jimaine. Now *there* was a woman who knew what she wanted...  
Thinking two thoughts at once, Scott stumbled into bed and slept. For  
a little while, anyway.  
  
The air was clean and crisp, and seemed to have done a lot to calm  
Jimaine's stomach. Either that, or she'd used her sorcery to mimic or  
borrow his cast-iron stomach.  
They walked together in the night.   
Jimaine was upset with the way things had turned out. She had this  
muscle on her jaw that flexed a lot when she was upset. Margali had  
nearly trained her out of grinding her teeth, but every now and again,  
she'd start up again.  
"I'm sorry about tonight," he said. "I know what you wanted, but - I  
really can't give you that. Not yet, anyway. I don't like being in debt.  
I hope you can understand that."  
Jimaine's jaw twitched. "Yes. I remember making do. Everyone in  
Heirelgart does. We were all too poor and too proud."  
"Ja, but we were also honest. Well. Maybe except for Uncle Wolf."  
Jimaine snorted. "Even Uncle Wolf is honest in his own way. He has a  
Code. Not even he would stoop to *some* things."  
Kurt laughed at a memory. "Remember when some Arschloch tried to sell  
him a truckload of 'pharmaceuticals'? The minute he found out what they  
*really* were, he had all the Centaurs coming down on top of the poor  
man. Not that he didn't deserve *some* of it, but-- heheheh... You're  
right. We're all honest."  
"Some are more honest than others," said Jimaine, being cryptic. But  
that was a Sorceress' way, so Kurt shrugged it off. "My residence is  
down the next road," she said. "Care to walk me up?"  
More veiled instructions. Kurt bowed, playing the formal courtier to  
the hilt. "Your wish is my command, meine Dame."  
It would, in any other situation, have made the perfect romantic  
stroll. Intermittent light from the street lamps, the chirping of  
crickets, the little fairy lights in the shrubbery. There was even a  
picture-perfect moment where a cloud of fireflies cavorted around them,  
perfect for musicless dancing and stolen kisses.  
And all he could think of was Amanda, and sharing that moment with  
her, impossible though that was.  
Jimaine lived in a student residence, a blocky, ugly structure that  
lurked amongst picturesque gardens like a squat, grey toad in fairyland.  
Inside, Kurt could hear a couple having a row, another couple -ahem-  
making up, as it were; and several different choices in music,  
accompanied by ameteur singers at varying degrees of off-key.  
It reminded him that Amanda sang wonderfully, but was shy about it  
when caught singing.  
Jimaine was on the fourth floor, sequestered in a little bed-sit with  
a mouse-sized kitchen and an even smaller bathroom. She'd decorated it  
as much as she could, and even then, her apartment said, _A sorceress  
lives here._  
Impromptu student shelving, always constructed of planks and bricks  
gleaned from construction sites, were full of jars that held the more  
presentable ingredients for sorcerous spells. Outsiders would assume she  
made potpurri, but Kurt knew differently. The other, more unnerving  
ingredients would be safely hidden from casual sight.  
Her doors and windows were guarded against evil by bunches of herbs,  
woven to look decorative. It almost felt - homey. He remembered making  
luck tokens like those wreaths, one Christmas, and everyone in  
Heirelgart laughing at the irony. Including him.  
Her furniture, such as it was, indicated that she was intensely proud  
enough to attempt to buy new furniture, instead of doing what every  
other student did in such situations - scrounge it for free off of  
roadsides and dumps.  
She had a table, a couch, two wooden chairs and a bed.  
"I'd offer you a nightcap," she said, "but I wouldn't want to break  
the law. That, and nobody in America seems to want to sell me alcohol.  
Tch! Auslanders..."  
It didn't do to correct a sorceress. He'd keep the fact that *they*  
were the foreigners to himself.  
"Make yourself comfortable," she said. "I'll make us some schokolade."  
Ah, chocolate. His lifelong hobby. Kurt grinned and tested out the  
couch. Not bad for a student buy. Good cushions. Nice arm-rests. Perfect  
for snuggling on with -- Nein.  
He couldn't let himself get caught thinking about her. Not here.  
Sorceresses had ears for hidden thoughts once in their own realm.  
Someone, somewhere, was playing the guitar and losing.  
"_Alas my lo-ove/You doooo me wro-ong..._"  
"What on *Earth*?" said Jimaine.  
"_To caaaaast me off so discouuurrteouslyyyy..._"  
There was only one person in the world who could not sing like that.  
Kurt knew personally from long periods waiting for him to finish with  
the verdammt shower. He opened the window and found that *he* was the  
one playing the guitar.  
"Scott?" he said. "What are you *doing*?"  
Scott wasn't listening to him. "_For IIIIII have lo-oved you oh so  
looonnnnng/De-li-ighting iinnnn your company..._"  
Jimaine's dress was green. And he *was* underneath her window...  
"What the devil are you playing at, dude?" Kurt asked.  
"_GREEEENslee-eeves is my deli-ight..._" Scott sang. "_Gree-ee-  
eenslee-eeves my heart of gold/GREEENsleeves was my heart of jo-oy/And  
who but my la-ady Jimaine..."  
"Clappe!" Kurt yelled down at him. "You're not funny."  
"I've got to confess my love," Scott returned. "Get lost, Fuzzy. Let  
me sing to *her*." He strummed the guitar and cleared his throat. "_I  
have been re-eady at your ha-and..._"  
It was the way he repeatedly tried to hit the high notes and missed,  
Kurt decided, that made Scott's alleged singing style so unique. He  
sighed and turned back to his companion for the evening. "Geliebter? I  
think you may have an admirer or something. You may want to pop out the  
window and get it over with in a hurry, ja?"  
  
Jimaine raised an eyebrow and looked. Scott Summers, one of Kurt's  
mutant buddies, was rending _Greensleeves_ into tiny little pieces.  
"_To grant whate-ever thou woulds't crave/I have wage-ed both liiife  
and la-and/Your lo-ove and goo-oodwill for to haaaavvve..._"  
Oh *Goddess!* He was going to slaughter the chorus again...  
"_GREEEEEENsleeeeeves was my deli-ight..._"  
At that point, the Bayville Student Residence Music Appreciation  
Society sprang into action.  
"Shuddup!"  
"Pipe down out there!"  
"Boooooo!"  
"Put a sock in it!"  
Someone threw a shoe. It missed. Someone else threw a squishy tomato.  
It didn't.  
Scott kept singing, unperturbed. "_Gree-ee-eenslee-eeves was my heart  
of gold..._"  
"Booooooooooo!"  
"Gerroff!"  
"Piss off and shut the fuck up," someone on the floor above hollered.  
"I've gotta fucking cram for a bloody English midterm!"  
Kurt, drawn by an open line, yelled up, "You have the vocabulary  
down!"  
"Wiseass," said the English Major.  
"_GREEEEEEEENsleeeeves was my heart of go-old..._"  
"Boooooooooooooooooo!"  
Someone threw a potplant. A *pot* potplant.  
"My hash!"  
"Sorry dude. Thought it was the dead one."  
The dead one followed its live partner. Neither hit Scott.  
Various other knicknacks were thrown out of windows in an effort to  
stop the hideous singing. Most were traffic cones, though there were  
some stolen road signs, odd shoes, and rotting vegetation in the mix.  
Most missed.  
"_And who but my la-ady Greeeeeeeeeensleeeeeves..._"  
"Geleibter?" Jimaine said, leaning on the windowsill. "Under the sink,  
you should find a mulch bucket. Could you fetch it here?"  
Kurt's presence left her side, and swiftly returned with the bucket  
that caught all the drips from the piping and every spare piece of  
biodegradable rubbish she had to throw.  
"Ready," she said, hefting the thing. "Aiiimmmm..."  
"_Thy pettico-oat of sendle whi-ite..._  
"Fire." She emptied the bucket.  
{Splorp!} "_With gold embroi-oidered gorgeously..._"  
"Doesn't give up, easily, does he?" said Kurt, watching the mulch-  
covered mutant continue malicious singing. "Bet you can get him with the  
bucket."  
She threw it with perfect aim, and giggled as she watched it ricochet  
off his head.  
"_Thy pettico-oat of silk and whi-ite..._"  
Not that it did anything to *stop* him...  
"_And the-ese I bo-ought thee glaaaaadlyyyyy..._"  
Maybe she had a spell somewhere to bind his mouth shut. One that did  
*not* involve physical contact.  
"_GREEEEEEEEEEENsleeeeeves was myyyy deli-ight/Gree-ee-eenslee-eeves  
was my heart of gold..._"  
Someone on the first floor frisbeed a cooking pot at his head.  
"_GREEEEEEEENsleeeeeeves--_" {Whang!}  
Scott fell down.  
"Gottim! Yes! I am spartacus! HAHAHAHAHAAA!"  
The person doing the victory dance wore her hair in an impossibly long  
plait, and covered her head in a polyester scarf. Her manner of dress  
was almost always jeans and a shirt that advertised something science-  
fictiony. Tonight's selection was _Deep Space Nine_. She bowed to her  
applauding audience from her balcony.  
"Thankyou. Thankyou. No autographs, please."  
While she was soaking up the appreciation of the block, Jimaine and  
Kurt journeyed down to survey the damage. Kurt picked up a long stick  
from the gardens to poke Scott with.  
"What was *that* about?" Jimaine asked.  
"I have no idea," Kurt confessed. He poked Scott, who twitched. "It's  
a little late for him to try this sort of joke, and he usually gets a  
clue at the first pillow." Kurt poked him again, a little more  
viciously. "Ach... I'm going to have to drag him home." He dug in his  
pockets for change. "Is there a payphone near here?"  
Jimaine sighed. Damn. And she'd been about to feed him a potion to  
make him as randy as an old goat. "*I'll* call the taxi," she said.  
"Anything to be rid of *him*."  
"Sorry, Geleibter," said Kurt.  
"Nein. Don't be. For once, it has nothing to do with you." She stormed  
back to her flat, leaving Kurt out in the cold, poking his compatriot  
with a stick. 


	24. Part 24

Part 24 ^_^  
  
"I thought you locked the door!"  
"I thought *you* locked the door!"  
"*I* locked the door," said the Professor. "Scott went out the  
window."  
"D'oh!" said Amanda.  
"On the upside," said Evan, "at least we know it's *working*."  
"Unfortunately, the influence of both the spells is interfering with  
my telepathic link. Even if I use Cerebro, I'd have trouble tracking him  
down."  
"D'OH!"  
A taxi pulled up outside the gate.  
"Kurt's home early," said the Professor. "Oh dear."  
"What?" said Evan.  
"I know where Scott is..."  
They looked out the window. Logan was helping peel Scott free of a  
tarpaulin, with the assistance of the cabbie and a highly-repulsed-  
looking Kurt. Together, they escorted him - at arm's length - back to  
the institute.  
"Concussion," said Logan.  
"Believe me, it's an improvement," said Kurt. "Whoever told him that  
singing _Greensleeves_ to Jimaine was funny aught to listen to his  
*singing* for a whole verdammt *hour*."  
"No need to get vicious, Elf," said Logan.  
"Um," said Evan. "Actually, it was sort of his own idea."  
"He broke out on us," said Amanda. "We had no idea how quickly the  
spell would work."  
"Spell?" echoed Kurt, making little hex signs by his hip. "What sort  
of spell?"  
"It's like this..." Evan began.  
  
"Let me get this straight," said Kurt. "Mysticism mucks up Sorcery."  
"Yeah."  
"But *only* if you cast the same sort of spell on the same person," he  
continued.  
"That's right," said Evan. Amanda had had to go home after one too  
many longing looks.  
"So you guys cast a love spell on Scott - to *counter* a love spell  
Jimaine cast on him."  
"That's right."  
"Why the heck would Jimaine cast a love spell on *Scott*?" Kurt  
wondered. "It's me she-- (unh)..." his jaws clenched together.  
Obviously, this was one of the things Jimaine didn't want him to talk  
about. "...verdammt." He changed the subject. "So why isn't he trying to  
chase Amanda?"  
"'Cause the first spell has precedence," said Evan. "It's had a longer  
time to dig in, and before the spell implodes, it's going to get  
stronger."  
"Eurgh..." said Kurt. "We're going to have to tie him down."  
  
Jimaine was ticked, and the day hadn't even started yet. She'd been  
primed and ready to enact her plan and that *idiot* with the sunglasses  
had to ruin everything.  
Now she had three days before the fertility spell wore off in which to  
bed the demon-boy and get pregnant with his spawn. If she failed, she'd  
have to wait another *month* before trying again.  
An entire month of avoiding suspicion and enforcing her hold on the  
demon. An entire month of threatening his alleged friends. Jimaine  
didn't know if she could maintain that much effort.  
Maybe if she threatened them with similar things. Yes. Tell Kurt's  
friends that the demon's life was in peril if they didn't leave things  
be - and tell *Kurt* that his friends' lives were in peril if he didn't  
do as she willed.  
Perfect.  
What she couldn't understand was where the flows of her magic were  
going to. According to her reading, last night, her spell was working.  
She could tell that she had a soul enwrapped by her magic; yet Kurt was  
acting - normally.  
Well. Normally for *him*.  
Jimaine went to her homeroom and tried to think things through. Mayhap  
he had some sort of luck charm on him. Lord knew that mud-magics like  
mysticism wrought hell on sorcery. She'd have to frisk him at a later  
date. Or add a compulsion that *her* magical amulets were much better  
than the homemade ones.  
So much *investment* for a minion and protector that wouldn't be able  
to act for a handful of years, at least. And if she accelerated its  
growth, she'd have to put up with it having the mind of an imbecile.  
_The Winding Way is *such* a pain..._ But then, every magic had its  
prices and flaws. And laws.  
"Flowers for a Jimaine Sezardos?"  
_What the--?_ "That's Szardos," she said. "What's this about?"  
The courier handed over a dozen long-stem red roses. "Message from -  
uh- Scott Sumners. Ahem. 'Roses are red, Violets are blue, I hope that  
this proves that I love you'."  
That sunglasses-wearing freak was going to die. Slowly and painfully.  
Over the passage of *years*. "Thank you," she grimaced, then thrust the  
roses at the nearest person. "Here. Pretend somebody loves you."  
"Thanks," said the overtall, thin and androgynous being at the next  
desk. "But I don't swing that way. Try Hubert."  
"...rrrrr..." said Jimaine.  
  
"Hey, Kitty."  
Kitty turned. Hubert was holding a dozen red roses. Long-stemmed and  
thornless. "Oh *wow*. Hubert... You didn't have to go and do *this*..."  
she blushed. "How could you *afford* it?"  
"Well. Um. They're sorta second-hand. There's this girl in homeroom,  
and she got flowers, and she didn't want them, and they were just gonna  
be thrown out. Andum. I thought they aughta go to someone special."  
Hubert was turning beetroot-red and mumbling by the time he finished his  
speech.  
Kitty giggled. "Oh, that's so *sweet*," she squeaked. "Nobody's given  
me flowers. Like, *ever*." She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek,  
then hugged the bouquet and squealed. "Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou,  
thankyou, *thankyou*!"  
"...wow..." said Hubert, watching her dance down the hall.  
"Mister Hubert Hughes?" said a MiB. He was standing in a group of  
three MiBs.  
_Uh oh._ "Not me," he lied. "You want *that* guy," he said, pointing  
out Duncan Matthews. "He'll try to tell you he's someone else and show  
you fake ID and stuff, but he's really Hughes."  
"Thank you for your time." The MiBs stalked towards Duncan.  
Hubert raced away as fast as he could go. _I'm in it. I'm in it deep._  
MiBs didn't exactly listen to tales of woe or true love. Maybe he could  
get Kitty to call him by a pet name for a week or so.  
  
"Candygram for a Jimaine -er- Sizardos?"  
"Szardos," said Jimaine. She had a sneaking suspicion by now that  
something had gone awry. *Very* awry.  
This time it was a heart-shaped box of chocolates. Cheap chocolates.  
And the courier had already eaten all the caramel curls.  
"There's a message, too. From a Scott-- I can't read the last name.  
Some kinda season."  
"Get on with it," sighed Jimaine.  
"Ahem. 'Sugar and candy, and chocolate too. These treats are sweet,  
but never as sweet as you." He held his hand out for a tip.  
"You may go away. And next time, don't eat the chocolates."  
"*Or* interrupt a class," added Mr Stevens. "Miss Szardos, could you  
please tell your boyfriend to keep his courting activities  
*extra*curricular?"  
"He's not my boyfriend," said Jimaine, passing the untouched box to  
Hubert.  
  
"Chocolates *too*?" squealed Kitty. "Oh *wow*..."  
"Someone already ate the caramel curls," Hubert appologised. "Same  
story as with the flowers, I'm afraid. But when it rains pennies, you  
know..." he shrugged.  
"Look... Hubie... It doesn't matter how you got 'em. I don't even mind  
that like, someone ate the caramel curls. They like, totally give me  
pimples anyway. It's just so like, *cool* to get like, *candy*." Kitty  
bounced up and down with glee. "You're like, the sweetest guy *ever*!"  
Hubert grinned. "You mean it?"  
"Yeah! I'm like, so totally like, appologetic that I thought about you  
like you were like, Idunno. I had you like, *completely* pegged wrong."  
She giggled and jumped some more before hugging the stuffing out of  
Hubert. "Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou,  
thankyou, thankyou, thankyoooooouuu..."  
"...wow..." said Hubert.  
Kitty giggled and shrieked all the way to her next class.  
  
"Pst!" Kitty nudged Kurt on the arm. Once she had his attention, she  
took a strawberry cream and ate it in front of him. "Nah, nah. I got  
chocolates and you don't."  
"Real mature," said Kurt. "Candygram chocolates are the *worst*." He  
made a face. "If you want *real* chocolate, there's only four countries  
to go to: Switzerland, Belgium, Germany and Australia. Chocolate made in  
America is just - cheap."  
"When you're *quite* done comparing delicacies?"  
Kurt blushed and cringed in his seat. "Sorry, mein Herr..."  
  
"Hey there, li'l lady," said a bizarre vision in a polyester jumpsuit,  
glittering cape, over-the-top pompadour with mutton-chop sideburns and  
an enormous pair of sunglasses. "Ah'm here t' give a message to a  
Jimaine Svardos?"  
"Szardos," Jimaine sighed. "You're going to do something hideously  
embaressing aren't you?" And it wasn't even lunchtime...  
He struck a pose, "There's a special guy out there who loves you  
tender with a real hunka hunka burnin' lurve. And if you don't be true,  
you're nuthin' but a hound dawg; so don't say only fools rush in,  
because he'd be all shook up. Don't have a wooden heart, and say  
you'll be his teddy bear. This song is for you, darlin'..." He cleared  
his throat, bought his guitar to the front, and started singing _Don't  
Be Cruel_.  
Well, at least he could *sing*. Jimaine cringed on the spot as gawkers  
gathered in the hallway around her. _Years aren't enough,_ she decided.  
_I'm going to take *decades*. I'll make him my *hobby*. Like  
needlepoint, only bloodier._  
It was at this point that she noticed the teddy bear tucked into the  
man's belt, and cringed even further. If it were possible, the heat  
rushing to her face would have started fires.  
The song wound to a close, thank the Goddess, and the man in the  
outrageous costume pressed the teddy bear, bedecked in a similar costume  
to his, into her arms.  
"Ladiesan'gennulmen, you'vebeenawunnerfulaudience," he mumbled,  
tossing a little salute and striding out of sight.  
"That was - surreal," said an observer.  
Jimaine dropped the bear into the nearest trash bin.  
"The Elvis impersonator has *left* the building," announced another  
wit.  
_Thank the *Goddess*..._ Jimaine thought.  
  
Kitty and Hubert, who'd been standing together to watch the show,  
looked at the alleged prize as it lay on top of a bunch of rejected  
printouts.  
"I don't know about you," said Hubert, "but I'm not touching *that*  
with a forty-foot barge pole."  
"Ew. Like, me neither." Kitty made a face. "Like, who'd *want* an  
Elvis teddy bear?"  
"Elvis teddy bear?" echoed one of the teachers, who was trying to  
disperse the crowds. It was Mrs Engelhardt. She gasped in delight and  
rescued the thing from the trash. "Oh, *wonderful*," she squeaked. "You  
just can't *buy* these!" She dusted it off. "*You* are going in my prize  
display cabinet, young man." She whisked away, grinning like the  
proverbial cat.  
Kitty and Hubert stared.  
"I am like, *never* looking at Mrs Engelhardt the same way again."  
"Calculus will never be the same," said Hubert.  
"On the other hand, it does like, explain her pencil holder."  
"*And* those mysterious catalogues..."  
They looked at each other.  
"Eeeeeeeeeeewwwwwww..." they chorused.  
  
Lunch. Jimaine breathed a sigh of relief as she sat with the demon in  
the cafeteria. At least this was *one* activity that she wouldn't land  
into trouble for interrupting. Even though it was, technically, that  
bespectacled *moron* who was really responsible.  
Someone took over the local PA system.  
{PHT! PHT! WheeeeeEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOoooeeee... PHT!} "Ahem," said  
Scott's voice. "This song goes out to a very special lady who has my  
heart." A guitar twanged.  
_What cerebrally-challenged soul gave him that *fucking* guitar?_  
At another table, Jean Grey ducked and blushed.  
Scott was playing _Eidelweiss_ and losing.  
A cafeteria staff member walked right past Jean with a bouquet of  
wilted, white flowers, and placed them in front of Jimaine.  
"Gruss Gott..." said Kurt, cringing with sympathetic mortification.  
Jimaine, no longer hungry, left the table and made to flee the  
building.  
The song behind her came to an abrupt halt. "Jimaine! Noooo!"  
She could *feel* Scott Summers racing after her. Jimaine grimaced and  
increased her speed.  
  
Behind Scott, Jean, who wasn't able to hang around long enough to  
listen to what was going on, got indignant about her erstwhile wannabe  
puppy-dog chasing after someone else. She rose and followed Scott to  
find out what was going on.  
Kurt, Evan and Amanda followed him in order to bring him down, tie him  
up, and bundle him back off to the Institute.  
Duncan followed Jean to find out what the matter was.  
Half the school followed *them* to watch the resultant show.  
Teachers rounded up all but the key participants, who were now being  
chased wholesale by an extremely out-of-shape principal.  
Classes were disrupted, because the kids refused to stay at their  
desks whilst something interesting was happening.  
In short, the entire school was bedlam.  
  
"Go, Jimi, go!"  
"Hike those skirts up an' *run*, damnit, I got three-fitty on ya!"  
"That's *indecent*!" cried Kurt from below.  
"Twelve bucks on the German kid..."  
"You know, this scene looks familliar," said Hubert. "But there's  
something missing..."  
"Yaketty Sax?" said Sara.  
"*That's* right," said Pietro. "Benny Hill!"  
Sara put her hand to one side of her nose. "And they're heading into  
the third stretch," she announced, sounding something like the bastard  
offspring of Howard Cosell and every racetrack announcer ever born.  
"It's Jimi, leading by a length, closely followed by Scooter and the  
German kid, neck and neck with Evan and Amanda. Jean Grey is lagging  
behind, but Principal Kelly is still laboring in the rear... aaaannnnd  
Beetlebommmmb..."  
"Miss *Adrien*!"  
Pietro had obtained a saxaphone from somewhere and began supplying  
what he thought was the missing element.  
"Mister Maximov!"  
The class on the floor above started a chant, "Scoot! Scoot! Scoot!  
Scoot! Scoot! Scoot! Scoot!"  
Another class began a second one, "Jimi! Jimi! Jimi! Jimi! Jimi!"  
Others just started throwing classroom detritous out the window, some  
aiming to hobble the 'contestants' below.  
"Where's *Duncan*?" wondered Rogue. "I thought he was tryin' to talk  
to Jean."  
"I think I saw him making book in the hallways," said Risty. "Isn't  
gambling supposed to be illegal in this state?"  
"Don't look at me, I don't gamble."  
  
Jimaine was, to put it politely, bloody furious. Were she alone with  
the moron, she'd simply incinerate him and that would be the end of  
that. As it was, she was hard pressed keeping a head start on the boy,  
even with a few fleet-foot incantations helping her along.  
Showing her *legs* to the world in order to run faster would just be  
the final indignity.  
She was *positive* the entirety of Heirelgart would hear about it in  
seconds. Jimi Szardos, showing her legs to God and everyone. Shameful!  
The Centaurs would *never* shut *up*...  
Sorceress or no, gossip was a hard thing to escape.  
Maybe someone *else* could do with a subtle fleet-foot spell. The  
negro boy. Everyone *knew* that their kind had to be faster than the  
leopards.  
Muttering under her breath as she went, Jimaine drew sigils in the  
air, then tossed the spell at the negro's feet.  
  
Evan didn't know where the burst of speed came from, but he legged it  
at top speed towards Scott and flying-tackled him in a move that had the  
entire school hooting and hollering. After him, Kurt and Amanda wound up  
in the tackle, holding him down long enough for Principal Kelly and Jean  
to catch them up.  
Both were out of breath and holding the other up as they staggered  
towards the melee.  
"But I gave her Eidelweiss," Scott whimpered. "It's *romantic*...  
Where did I go wrong?"  
"Dude," said Evan, even though he *knew* talking to him was a lost  
cause. "You should have put them in water."  
"You *should* have put your car top up," said Amanda, "and kept 'em  
out of the sun."  
"You should have kept your money," said Kurt. Then he yelled in  
Scott's ear, "She's not interested, man!"  
"Jimaine," Scott sobbed. "Jimaine..." 


	25. Part 25

Part 25 ^_^  
  
An entire day, completely ruined by the pathetic and doomed Scott  
fucking Summers. She was going to work a spell on him to make him  
immortal, just so she could kill him over and over and over again. For  
the rest of forever.  
Now she only had tomorrow and the day after to ensnare the demon  
freak-boy; and the last day only counted if she got him before  
nightfall.  
"May his nightmares be flesh," she hissed.  
  
"I bought you breakfast," Hank said as he opened the door. "I believe  
Jimaine had--"  
Scott's room was empty. The window smashed.  
"Oh, spite. Oh, hell..." Hank muttered. "Where is he *now*?"  
  
"....grrrooooaaaaannnn..."  
"OVERDO IT A LITTLE, DID WE?"  
"Bob, that's cruel," said Jake. He gently prodded the supine form with  
his shoe. "Hey, pal? Were you in a Buck's Night?"  
"....oooOOOOoooooooohhh... my heeaaaad..."  
"I'll take that as a 'yes'."  
Bob tilted his head to read the lipstick on the guy's chest. "Jimaine  
fur immer?"  
"...ahaaahhaaaahhaaaoowww..."  
"Come on," crooned Jake, grabbing a handy arm. "You can't hide under  
the bush all day."  
"LOOK, IT'S A *LOVELY* BRIGHT, SUNNY DAY!"  
"...IthinkI'mgonnabesick..." mumbled the impending groom.  
"Aim at Bob," suggested Jake.  
"Hey!"  
"Guah..." said the kid. "Oh, God... Where *am* I?"  
"Bayville Central Park," said Jake. "By the way, who *is* Jimaine?"  
"...uuuuoooohhhh... Whut've I got on my chest?"  
"Looks liiiiike..." Bob examined the stuff. "Peach tango lipstick by  
Maybelline to me."  
"Bob, you dog."  
"...ooohhh, God..." whimpered the kid. "Oh, man... The Professor's  
gonna *kill* me... What did I *do* last night?"  
"Whoop," said Bob, fishing an article out of the shrubbery. "You  
forgot your guitar."  
"...oooohhh God..."  
  
Jimaine picked herself up off the floor. Backlash was a bitch. One of  
her spells had just imploded, and the magical energies had struck her  
like a snake.  
The captive piece of hair, preserved in a jar by her bed, fell to ash.  
So. Someone had used mud-magic to dissolve her love spell. _But that  
would mean that the blue freak would be overly -- amorous..._  
Realisation hit her harder than the backlash had, and she made herself  
check the ashy contents.  
Kurt's hair was apparently intact. She seperated it from the ash and  
muttered an incantation over the ash to see what was.  
Her hair was bound around a single strand of brown hair.  
It was her own doing.  
On the upside, that fool wasn't going to interfere, any more. And,  
since he didn't *completely* deserve to die, she may eventually lift her  
curse from him.  
Much later. When she was in a better mood.  
Today, all omens being good, she'd find a way to ensnare the demon.  
And, since his hair remained intact, he had to have an immunity to her  
most effective love spell.  
Therefore, lust would have to do.  
Jimaine recentred herself and began to work, drawing power from just  
ahead of herself on the Winding Way. She was heading for the apex on the  
Way, when she'd be all-powerful. After that, recovering from any  
backlash would be slow and painful work.  
Which meant she'd have to get things exactly right.  
Jimaine gathered all her herbs for a lust potion that would get a rise  
out of the dead.  
  
{Ring ring!}  
"Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, Professor Xavier speaking."  
The police officer on the other end said, "Hi. Do you usually have a  
Scott Summers staying there?"  
"Yes?"  
"And is he missing this morning?"  
"Ah, you've *found* him. We were getting quite worried."  
"Bachelor party?"  
"Nnno. Mixed medication. Young Mister Summers caught a dose of the  
'flu and the medication prescribed to him interfered with the medication  
he takes for his eye condition."  
"Ooooooo..." said the cop. "Not nice. So who's Jimaine?"  
"Someone he's taken a shine to in his delirium, I'm afraid. She's new  
at the High School."  
"I have to ask - can he play the guitar?"  
"He used to think that he could."  
"Ow. I'm guessing he's not this Jimaine's favourite, right now."  
"Precisely," said Xavier. "Where can I pick him up?"  
  
"BWA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA..."  
"Shuddup," said Scott. "...*oowwwww*..."  
Kurt took one look at him and sprained something trying not to laugh.  
"Cool shirt, man," he said around snickers.  
"Shuddup. Ow."  
"Like, oh my *God*..." Kitty burst out laughing.  
"*Shuddup*..." Scott pleaded. "*Owww*..."  
Then he crossed the path of another Jamie. "BWA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA...  
That is so *lame*!"  
"Great. Fashion advice from a little kid," he mumbled. "...owww..."  
Hank merely raised an eyebrow. "Ladies' Police Youth Club Pingpong  
Team?"  
"Shuddup..." whimpered Scott. "..plee-hee-heease?" His head hurt so  
much he wanted to explode. "...mooooooaaaaannnnn..."  
Hank just handed him some painkillers.  
  
"Well, hel-looooo, sweetcheeks," someone grinned.  
Jimaine vaguely recalled him as Duncan somebody. It had to be the  
fertility spell. It tended to attract males like flies.  
"What's in the thermos?" he asked.  
_Ooops._ "Just a little memory potion for my boyfriend. He's having  
bad luck in Trig."  
"Oooo... so am I," said Duncan. "Mind if I have a swig?"  
"Yes," she said. "He has to drink the whole thing or it won't work."  
Duncan forced it out of her hands anyway. "Well *I* need to pass Calc.  
today, so you can just whip WAGner up another batch." He patted her  
cheek. "Thanks, doll."  
_Urge to kill... rising..._  
Duncan disappeared just as Kurt turned the last corner towards his  
locker, Gut Bomb burger in his hand.  
"Guten Tag," he said. "Something wrong?"  
"Rrrrr..." said Jimaine.  
  
"Cool," said Duncan as he unscrewed the lid. "Aces, here I come..."  
"I'll have that, thankyou, mister Matthews." Principal Kelly took the  
thermos from him. "Knowing you, this is full of alcohol, or some *other*  
banned substance."  
"But--"  
"You can have the thermos back at the end of the day."  
"But--"  
"Into class, mister Matthews."  
"But--"  
"*Now*."  
Duncan sighed and slunk into his classroom.  
Principal Kelly waited until the halls were empty before he sniffed  
the contents. "Hmm... chocolate. Maybe there's some Vodka in there." He  
put the lid back on and sauntered towards his office. Maybe he could  
share a little with Doris.  
  
[And the answer is, I'm taking it slow now, 'cause I'm writing the  
chapters. Heehee ^_^ I had a bunch stored up ^_^ No more now. Sigh.] 


	26. Part 26

Part 27 ^_^  
  
Doris saw the thermos and instantly brightened. "Confiscated drink?"  
"Confiscated drink," said Edward. "It smells like chocolate, so it  
could be vodka - or even Schnapps."  
"Oooo..." Doris left her station. "Count me in."  
Edward opened the door for her to enter his office.  
  
"Am I attractive to you?"  
_Ooop. Words of doom..._ Kurt thought, looking at Jimaine. "You're  
very pretty," he said, attempting to avoid the issue.  
Some guy behind her snuck a feel of her hair. Odd. In fact, most of  
the males around the place were kind of - salivating - in her general  
direction.  
"But you don't feel attracted to me," she said.  
_I'm doomed. If I tell the truth, she'll fry me. If I lie, she'll know  
and she'll fry me. If I avoid the issue... I might have a chance._ "I  
made a promise," he said. "I made a vow. It's your choice whether you  
release me - or make me see it through. What I *feel* doesn't come into  
it."  
Quicker than a snake, her hand whipped out and slapped the guy who was  
feeling her hair. Her rising ire could be felt like heat from her body.  
_Heat,_ thought Kurt. _Maybe--? Nein, that's animals... But magic  
merges animal traits with humans, sometimes. Ach! What do I know about  
this? Just go with the flow, ja?_  
Jimaine smoothed her hair out of easy reach for the unlucky groper.  
"What you feel *can* matter," she said. "I want to know the truth. What  
do you feel when you see me?"  
"Fear," he murmured, waiting for the hammer to fall.  
Jimaine smiled. "I'm not all bad," she whispered. "You could find me  
very good, if you let me."  
"I'm yours by oath," he said. "But you can't sway my heart and soul,  
Jimaine."  
Surprisingly gentle, she laid her hand on his. "At least let me try to  
convince you?" she pleaded. "I don't want to see you suffer."  
Kurt shivered the minute she let go. She was lying. He could see it in  
her eyes.  
  
Meanwhile, in the Principal's office...  
"Is the air conditioning working?" Doris wondered, absently  
unbuttoning her blouse. "It feels - so *hot*."  
Edward had taken his coat off and was getting rid of his tie. Both had  
kicked off their shoes after the first glass. "Seems to be," he said.  
"Maybe the coolant needs... recharging..." But he couldn't keep his mind  
on air conditioning. What he kept turning back to was the lucious form  
propped against his desk, all curves... and the blessed white mounds  
that peeked over her bra with her every breath. He shed the tie and  
worked on the cuffs and neck of his shirt. "Doris?"  
"Mmmmm?"  
"I have to have you."  
"Oh, Edward," she breathed, and almost fell on him from her perch.  
All of a sudden, their hands couldn't move fast enough, they were  
struggling with each other's clothes, and they couldn't get enough air,  
but that didn't matter, since they both needed the taste of the other in  
their mouths.  
They both tasted of the chocolate that was now dripping slowly from  
the overturned thermos, and onto the deep shag carpeting below.  
  
"Hubie, have you noticed anything like, *odd* about today?"  
Hubert shrugged, looking around nervously as he did so. "It all seems  
normal to me," he said.  
Kitty picked at her salad. "There's something missing," she said. "I  
like, don't know what it is? But it's like, bugging the *heck* out of  
me."  
"Mister Hubert Hughes?" said an MiB.  
"...oh heck..." said Hubert. "I didn't do anything illegal! I just  
know how! I did it for love, 'cause that jerk Alvers doesn't know how to  
treat a Lady! I only broke in! I didn't alter anything!"  
"Hubert?" said Kitty. "Um. Like, what?"  
"Oh, Kitty," he seized her hand. "That lowlife would've pounded me in  
a fight, and we both know it, so I tried to take care of him with what I  
knew, and -- now I'm going to jail."  
"No you're not," said the other MiB.  
"We represent the Microsoft Corporation," said the first, "and we'd  
like to interest you in a future position in Microsoft Security  
software."  
"*WHAT*?"  
"It's a very lucrative career," said the second. "With your talents,  
Mister Hughes, you could be netting ten grand a week, pre-tax."  
"...eep," said Hubert, and fainted.  
  
"I'm missing an entire *day*?" said Scott. "How'd *that* happen?"  
"There was a lot of power in the spell, I guess," said Jamie, who was  
doing his HomeSchool work. "I don't really know, I know what I hear from  
Jubilee."  
"And - what did you hear from Jubilee?" said Scott.  
"Well, the first night, you went out with your guitar and tried to  
sing _Greensleeves_ under her window..."  
"Oh, God..." whimpered Scott.  
"And you were singing about rain in September when we tied you down  
until the next morning, too," added Jamie. He'd doubled himself so that  
one could do the HomeSchool work while the other chatted. "Did you know  
that you can't sing?"  
"...oh God..."  
"And the next day, you broke out, bought Jimaine roses, and you wrote a  
poem to go with. And a... candygram, with a poem. And a singing Elvis-  
gram."  
"...oh God..."  
"And you got some foreign flower from Germany? Eedelwissy?"  
"Eidelweiss?"  
"Yeah! And you got that and you sang the flower song to Jimaine over  
the Cafeteria PA? And you tried to give her the flowers but she ran away  
'cause they were all wilted and dead? And the whole *school* chased  
you!"  
"...oh God..."  
"Can I ask a question?"  
"What?" said Scott.  
"What's so funny about girls playing pingpong? I heard Jubes and Amara  
laughing about it but when I asked them, they went all quiet."  
"...oh God..." whimpered Scott. "I'm doomed."  
  
This had to be the weirdest school in the history of Bayville,  
Superintendant Skinner decided. The half of the staff that weren't drunk  
out of their skulls were either happily in lala land or popping pills  
like candy.  
And where the *hell* was Kelly? Usually, when a Superintendant popped  
up, the Principal spontaneously appeared in a cloud of brown-nosing and  
songs of praise, if not hasty excuses for whatever malarky was going on;  
and this place had *malarky*.  
Resolute, and determined to find out why it was *snowing* in one of  
the hallways, Superintendant Skinner marched up to the Principal's  
office and barged in.  
Only to find the Principal in flagrante delicto with his secretary.  
Stark, as the street patois was wont to say, bollocks naked.  
Skinner quietly sneaked out and shut the door, and found a crowd of  
happy, gossipy, teenaged observers.  
"Ahem," he said, not used to explaining things to minors. "Move along.  
Nothing more to see, here."  
The secretary had a particularly loud and deeply religious orgasm.  
"...doomed," he muttered. "We're all doomed..."  
  
Where force had failed, maybe guile and cunning would work. Jimaine  
decided to play nice, pour on the charm, and otherwise use gentler  
methods to turn the demon's head.  
First, she fed him, reasoning that a demon's heart, as well as a  
man's, was close to his stomach. When she had him purring softly to  
himself, she lead him away from the maddening crowd - who were gossiping  
insanely about Principal Kelly and Secretary Doris going at it like  
rabid weasels - to a secluded, shady spot on the school grounds.  
Kurt had always felt more relaxed around nature. And he was even  
smiling as he leaned up against a handy tree.  
"Mmmmm..." he said, still softly purring. "Now *this* is nice."  
She leaned up against him. "See?" she said. "I know how to treat you  
right." One arm wound around his shoulders so her hand could play with  
his ear while she whispered in the other. "I can make this *entire*  
experience worth your while."  
His body was answering her, she could feel the flow of energies  
change, but his heart and mind remained impenetrable to her.  
"Geliebter... Nein. Please. Despite my promise, I - I *love* Amanda.  
Please? Just free me from my vow?"  
She added a subtle flow of magic into some key chakra-spots, so that  
his body would feel aroused by her touch. His heart would beat faster,  
and perhaps, just perhaps, his mind would begin to become confused.  
"You're mine, Kurt Wagner," she said. "We both know it. We're  
*destined*. You can feel it, can't you? Your mouth says 'no'," here, she  
gently rested her hand against his growing hardness, "but your body says  
'yes'." She moved closer to his lips.  
"Oops. HEADS UP!"  
{Boont!} A soccerball collided with Kurt's skull, forcing it back into  
the tree with concussive force.  
"Sorry about that," said the blonde soccer player. "I swear my aim  
isn't usually that off." She retrieved the ball. "Uh oh. Um. I think  
you'd better take your boyfriend to the nurse's office. I think he's  
bleeding."  
Was there some force of nature or magic that was working against her  
or *what*? Jimaine hauled the unconscious demon to his feet. "Rrrrr..."  
she kept the growl down to a murmur, hidden under noises of strain in  
picking Kurt up. "It's okay," she managed through gritted teeth. "I have  
him." _Good Goddess, what *next*? What force could possibly be working  
against me?_  
  
[What *IS* the mysterious power thwarting Jimaine's plans? *WILL*  
Scooter ever get over being fatally embaressed at school? What *IS* so  
darned funny about girls and pingpong? Find out the answers to these  
questions and more when I get my butt into gear and write another  
thrilling chapter of -- Reale Liebe!] 


	27. Part 27

Part 27 ^_^  
  
Stefan looked up into the rain, past Kurti to the shadowy figure only  
he could see. He was transfixed by that figure.  
It was, after all, kind of hard to ignore a seven-foot-tall skeleton.  
HALLO, said Death.  
"Come *on*," Kurti urged. "Grab *hold*! You're slipping..."  
"So you came for me, eh?" said Stefan. "You were always coming for me."  
WELL, Death admitted, YOU *WERE* BEING POISONED SINCE YOU WERE FIVE.  
YOU COULD SAY I WAS OBSERVING _IN POTENTIA_.  
Poison? Even in his addled state, something was wrong with that.  
Demons didn't bother with poison... That was usually something that  
another type employed. Which type? He couldn't remember.  
"*Stefan*..." Kurti urged. "Grab *hold* of something!" That infernal  
tail wrapped and re-wrapped around Stefan's neck. Almost as if the demon  
didn't want it there.  
But didn't the demon want him dead?  
FOR EXAMPLE, said Death. POTENTIALLY, THERE COULD BE TWO DEAD, TODAY.  
OR ONE. IT ALL DEPENDS ON WHETHER YOUR FRIEND KEEPS HIS GRIP. One  
skeletal finger indicated the root Kurti held.  
Stefan had a flash of a future. He trusted his friend and grabbed  
on... and the abrupt movement made the dry wood snap. _I'm destined to  
die,_ he thought.  
I NEVER SAID THAT, said Death.  
He still had the knife. And someone wanted him dead. Why not the  
demon? "Don't be so tentative, demon," he said. He knew what he was  
doing, now. He knew where he was going. It was peaceful. One hand  
reached up and tightened Kurti's tail around his neck. "You snug it  
tight, like this." He demonstrated, making sure his new garotte was  
taut. "And then you let go. Like --" the knife flashed and cut Kurti  
across his legs, "--*this*!"  
A moment of gravity. His hand tightened on Kurt's tail, and he was  
amazed at how much it could twitch and struggle in that moment.  
{KRAK!}  
An unearthly howl almost drowned out the noise of his own death.  
Stefan lost feeling in his arms. Watched Kurt dwindle into a little  
speck as he fell.  
{THUD!}  
Stefan got up, a little disoriented, then he looked down. There's  
nothing like staring at your own remains to wake you up to the truth.  
"He wasn't trying to kill me at all. He never *was* a demon," he said.  
YES, said Death. AND YOU COMMITED SUICIDE.  
A number of futures came to him, then. Alternate worlds. In one of  
them, Stefan, though mad, was careful, and Kurti piggybacked him up to  
safety. And Jimaine was there, watching. Making up a lie about Mama's  
knife.  
"Jimaine," he murmured, watching his sister rescue his 'brother'. "It  
was always Jimaine, wasn't it?"  
YES. Death cleaned his traditional blade. YOUR SISTER HAS ALWAYS  
WANTED POWER.  
"If something doesn't happen," said Stefan, "it's going to kill them  
both."  
Death nodded.  
Something occurred to him. "Aren't you going to guide me to the other  
side or something?"  
NO, STEFAN, said Death. YOU'RE A SUICIDE, NOT A MURDER. YOU HAVE TO  
LIVE THE REST OF YOUR NATURAL SPAN AS AN EARTHBOUND SPIRIT. A skeletal  
hand patted his shoulder. BUT IT *IS* UP TO YOU HOW YOU SPEND THAT TIME.  
In the land of the living, Kurt carefully placed a noose around the  
corpse's broken neck. He was weeping an appologising.  
"He's mourning me," Stefan wondered. "He loves me and he's mourning me  
and I just tried to *kill* him..."  
PEOPLE ARE LIKE THAT, SOMETIMES, said Death. TO HIM, YOU WERE ALWAYS  
HIS BROTHER... AND FAMILY MEANS A LOT TO THE ADOPTED.  
Stefan blinked. Just like that, he could see every inch of Kurt's soul  
and knew what it meant. Why he didn't have that clarity when he was  
still alive was an exercise in pure irony.  
He made up his mind. "I know what I'm going to do," he said, and  
clamped one hand firmly onto Kurt's shoulder. "I'm going to watch over  
my brother, and keep him safe from harm."  
AS YOU WISH, said Death. I'LL POP BY FROM TIME TO TIME, IN CASE YOU  
WANT TO CHAT.  
"Thankyou," whispered Stefan as Death rode away.  
But of course, he was new to being a ghost, and could not prevent  
Jimaine binding Kurt in an oath. Something he regretted for the rest of  
his death. But he learned, and learned well. He worked out how to  
influence others and cause things to happen.  
Things like; turning Amanda's eyes towards Kurt and helping two  
destined souls meet, or snapping the tooth of Scott's comb, or diverting  
a football.  
Lately, though, things were getting difficult. Which was why he'd hit  
Kurt instead of Jimaine. The result, thankfully, was the same - a period  
in which his sister was completely unable to influence his brother.  
Stefan watched over his sleeping charge, and stared glumly into the  
alternate futures for the next day.  
It was going to be tough to keep Kurt out of trouble until sunset.  
  
Jimaine was fast approaching the zenith of her power, a time when care  
and caution were very important bywords. The Winding Way was a path of  
peaks and valleys - and, sometimes, treacherous falls. One had to guard  
against those who sought to surpass, while at the same time, plot to  
walk ahead of the others on the Way.  
While at the zenith, none directly behind her dare attack, since they  
were weaker. But what she had to guard against were the ambitious ones  
on the previous peak, the ones who were equal or above her in power and  
below her in morals.  
Therefore, she wove extra charms and wards into her hair, that  
morning, guarding against outside harm from magical attacks. She  
borrowed a mote of power from the very peak of her ascent, just hours  
ahead, so her wards would have that little extra kick.  
Then she took a pin, and tipped it in her blood. "Hecatae, guide me,"  
she murmured, "Show me a portent of things to come."  
The needle flew out of her hands and pierced the newspaper.  
Jimaine opened it, looking for the tell-tale spot of blood. There. In  
the horoscopes. Marking a sentence that read, "Today is not a day for  
unnecessary reflection."  
Right. Do, not think. Act, and know what you're doing. _My thanks unto  
you, Goddess, for guiding me on the Way._ She put the paper down,  
confident that she'd divined the meaning of Hecatae's message - and  
neglecting to see that the blood had seeped through to the other side of  
the page.  
It marked a bathroom supplier's advertisement, and linked an O and an  
M together to make something of a skull. A warning of doom.  
  
"Hallo," said a distinctly German voice on the other side of her  
locker door.  
"Kurt!" Amanda lit up instantly, lunging into a hug and not caring who  
saw. "OmyGod, OmyGod, OmyGod... Are you okay? Where's you-know-who? Is  
she still-- Oh, *Kurt*... I missed you."  
"I miss you, too." Kurt leaned into their embrace. "We don't have  
long. The others are watching for her. Telepathic relay." He sniffed her  
neck like his life depended on it, then sighed. "Whatever happens,  
whatever it may look like, I still love you."  
"I love you, too," Amanda said, ruffling the fur on his neck with her  
nose. "I just wish it didn't have to happen." Tears pricked her eyes.  
"Shh... We have this moment, Geliebt. A moment to last us forever.  
Don't cry, love. Savour the moment."  
She did. The feel of his fur. The smell of his hair. The goofy smile  
he always got when she was around - hologram or no. The way his tail  
wound around her leg whenever they embraced.  
"You haven't been eating," he murmured. "Look, I can feel your ribs."  
"Don't have you around to feed me," she said.  
"Ach..." Kurt squeezed her tight for a moment. "Promise me you'll  
live for me, liebe. I'll live for you."  
"Deal," she whispered.  
_She's coming,_ said Jean's voice in her head. _Break it up._  
One last squeeze, and they walked away from each other as if it hadn't  
happened. There weren't any goodbyes. They'd hurt too much.  
  
"Geleibter," Kurt bowed and kissed her hand. "Nice to see you this  
morning." The words were as false as his face, but Jimaine didn't care.  
She smiled pleasantly and tickled his ear with her fingers, something  
that always made him feel comfortable. Jimaine took his hand and played  
with his misshapen fingers. "Now, Kurti," she cooed. "That wasn't too  
bad, was it? I'm not that bad, am I?"  
"I - I can't say. I thought I knew you, but--" he shook his head. "I'm  
not so sure."  
Jimaine smiled again. Doubt was always good. A prickle of doubt could  
turn the tables for her. "I'm *not* bad, love. I just--" an artful  
falter, a touch to her eye, "it's high time I got married. You *know*  
our tribe's customs... and since we're already betrothed... maybe - we  
could make it work?"  
"Ja. Maybe we could." He fiddled with his watch. "It's just - Mama and  
Papa *knew* they were meant for each other. They're still in love after  
thirty years and four kids. I guess... part of me wanted that, too."  
"Don't worry, Geleibter," she soothed, moving into an embrace. "I love  
you enough for both of us. I'll never be unfaithful to us." _Easy to do,  
since there is no 'us' and a demon has no heart to love._ Jimaine flowed  
a little bit of magic into him, making him feel warm. "You're everything  
I need, Kurti. I'm so sorry I tried to use force on you. I was just so  
scared I'd lose you. I don't want to lose you."  
True to type, he held her and brushed her hair and murmured soothing  
nothings. He even kissed her ear.  
"I'm sorry, too," he said.  
Jimaine took that sympathy and added just a hint of magical  
amplification. All the better to soften him up for the final blow. 


	28. Part 28

Part 28 ^_^  
  
"Mr Wagner? Are you all right?"  
Kurt looked up from his musings. "Difficult times," he said. "I won't  
disturb the class, mein Herr." He went back to staring at the wood grain  
on his desk.  
Next thing he knew, there was a hall pass on it.  
"Go see the counsellor, please. I'll give you the relevant details of  
this class, later, when you can pay attention to it."  
"Danke," said Kurt, and slunk out of the room.  
  
Mr Kian was not an unkind man, he just had to know things. It made his  
work more difficult when kids hedged around the truth.  
"I understand something's been bothering you, lately?" he tried.  
"Ja. Flashbacks."  
That raised some eyebrows. He knew Kurt Wagner had a few traumatic  
episodes in his past, but he was told that the boy was over most of  
them. When all else failed, connect the dots. And one dot was Jimi  
Szardos. "Is it something to do with Jimaine?"  
"Yes. No. I don't know. I keep thinking - how long *was* I hanging  
there on the cliff? I mean, *really*; in minutes and seconds?"  
"Cliff?" Kian echoed.  
"We fell off a cliff."  
"You and Jimaine?"  
"Nein, Stefan and I."  
"M'*kay*... Who's Stefan?"  
"Jimaine's twin brother. My best friend. There was a fight. We fell. I  
wound up hanging on to a root with both hands, and him with both feet."  
Kurt was staring into the memory. "He was going mad. Thought I was  
trying to kill him. He wouldn't grab on. Cut my legs. Made me let go."  
_Oh hell..._ "It's all right, Kurt," he whispered.  
"It felt like forever, hanging on. After he fell. But how long was it,  
really? And - I keep thinking that I've forgotten something - important.  
Something from before."  
"Before the fight?"  
"Ja. I saw something when I woke up in the rain... Something  
important. But when I saw the lines, I forgot about it."  
Whatever 'the lines' were could wait. What the patient wanted to get  
to was more important.  
"M'kay. All right. I want you to take a deep breath and focus on being  
calm, m'kay? Just relax, and imagine you're at home watching a DVD  
that's made out of our memories, m'kay? There's no-one else around to  
give you heck about hogging the remote, it's just you and the movie.  
Now. You're watching the bit where you wake up in the rain, and you see  
something."  
"Ja."  
"Freeze frame," Kian instructed. "You're not looking at the lines,  
you're looking beyond. What do you see?"  
"Colours," whispered Kurt. "Colours in the bushes. Someone... was  
watching us."  
"Do you know those colours?"  
"Jimaine. She was watching us. She saw the whole thing. She was  
*there* all the *time*... and she had the rope with her."  
_Rope?_ "Does this mean anything to you?"  
"She knew we'd be in trouble," Kurt had his eyes open, now. "She was  
there, and prepared for it. She could have saved us *both*. Why did she  
wait?"  
"I'd have to ask her," said Kian. "If you like, I could arrange a  
mutual counselling session, m'kay, and help you both through the  
trauma."  
"Nein. I don't think that's necessary. I'll talk with her today. At  
lunch. Danke, Mein Herr," Kurt was bright and cheerful again. "This  
changes *everything*." He was out of the office before Kian could  
blink.  
"Maybe you can tell *me* about it when you're done," Kian muttered.  
  
"Jimaine. We have to talk."  
Interesting. Her little influence had worked faster than she'd  
thought. She smiled, and took his hands, adding a little extra 'zing' to  
the magic. "Of course," she said. "I know just the place."  
She lead him into the Ladies' bathroom. "No-one will think of looking  
for us here," she said. "We can talk - or do whatever you like." She  
embraced him, then, running a hand posessively along his chest, feeling  
the muscles underneath.  
Kurt held her by the wrists. "Jimaine. Please. I -- I saw you. You  
were there, when Stefan tried to send me to Hell."  
_*WHAT*?_ "What? *How*?"  
"I saw you hiding, but I got distracted by Stefan and his lines. You  
were *there*, watching everything."  
_Oh hell..._ "Kurti, love, you have to believe me," she added magic to  
her words and held his face, amplifying his credulity. Now for the lies,  
"I was afraid. I found Mother's knife missing and I knew that Stefan had  
to have taken it. He was ahead of me in the Way, I couldn't defend  
myself against him. I took the rope, hoping I could tie him up, but I  
never had the right moment. Oh, Kurti, I was so scared of him. I didn't  
want you to die as well... I just *couldn't* climb down to you until it  
was too late." Jimaine fell to sobbing.  
Kurt held her, rocking her gently. "Ach... I have no idea what it must  
have been like for you. Afraid of your own family."  
"He was your brother, too," she said, sneaking her hands under his  
shirt.  
"Only in spirit," he said. "The both of us - we could go home when we  
wanted to. We could take time apart. You lived with him."  
"It's all over, now," said Jimaine, working her hands around to his  
back, running them up and down his taut body. "All in the past. What we  
have now is each other."  
Kurt backed away. "*Jimaine*! Control yourself. Please. This is  
serious."  
"So am I," she said. She moved a hand, and the exit locked itself. "I  
get what I want, Kurt Wagner; and what I want is *you*." Another  
gesture, and he was bound to one plane of reality. "My time is running  
out. You made a promise. I plan to see you keep it."  
He was backed up against the wall, trying to wedge himself into the  
corner. He even climbed up onto the counter, between the wall and the  
mirrors. "Jimaine?"  
"It won't be so bad," she said. "I even guarantee that you'll enjoy  
the experience. It'll be *pleasant*."   
Flows of magic made him want to relax, made his eyes droop.  
  
Amanda wasn't feeling well. Something just dropped over her like a  
net. A heavy net, sticky and cloying, that made her feel supremely  
unwell. Her head swam. Her stomach roiled.  
"Oh, God," she muttered. All the strength had gone out of her.  
Mrs Henricks noticed her. "Are you all right, dear?"  
Amanda barely managed to shake her head. "I think I gotta go to th'  
bathroom," she said, her words slurring. "I don' feel so good."  
Mrs Henricks helped her up and pressed a hall pass into her hand.  
"Will you be all right on your own?"  
"Should be okay," Amanda managed. "I can walk. This just came on so  
*sudden*..."  
"It's going around," said Mrs Henricks. "If you're not back before  
class is over, I'll come check up on you, okay?"  
"Okay," Amanda murmured, and staggered towards the Ladies' room.  
Only to find that the door was locked.  
And then the sick feeling mostly left.  
She tried knocking.  
  
{Knock knock knock}  
"Hey. Is anyone in there?"  
"Amanda," said the demon.  
"She won't interfere," said Jimaine. "In fact, you don't want her to.  
You don't want her to get in my way. She could be hurt."  
"What happened to the door?" said Amanda, still on the other side.  
"Open up in there."  
Kurt managed to get past Jimaine, and started struggling with the lock  
and the handle, though neither would budge. "Liebe! Get help!"  
"*Kurt*? What are you *doing* in there?"  
"Trying to get out!"  
Fury overwhelmed her. "You. Will. *NOT*. Escape me!" She summoned all  
her power, all her might, and turned towards him. "SPIRIT OF HECATAE! I  
CALL UPON YOU TO BIND THE DARKEST SOUL IN MY SIGHT! BIND THEM AGAINST  
*ALL* WILLFUL MOVEMENT!" she roared, "HECATAE, BIND THEM *NOW*!" and  
unleashed the full might of her power.  
A power that filled the room with its unearthly light.  
And streaked straight towards the helpless Kurt Wagner.  
And a wall full of mirrors. 


	29. Part 29

Part 29 ^_^  
  
There was an unearthly scream of pain and loss. Kurt hadn't heard the  
like since Stefan fell. The light blinded and burned, then faded into  
nothing.  
His hands, still scrambling at the bathroom door's lock, finally  
managed to open it.  
"*Kurt*!" Amanda was with him. "Are you all right?"  
Belatedly, he realised he could still move. Jimaine's spell had  
misfired. "Ja. I don't know how, though."  
Jimaine made another ugly noise.  
Helpless to stop himself, Kurt looked.  
To all intents and purposes, Jimaine looked like she was having a fit.  
Only the occasional spark gave away the fact that that her spasms were  
of mystical origin. It looked supremely uncomfortable.  
"What *happened*?" he asked.  
Amanda was looking at the mirrors. "She bound the darkest soul she  
could see. And she could see herself..."  
Kurt took off his overshirt and placed it under her head. "Just try to  
relax, you can't fight it."  
Jimaine came out with some sounds that could have been curses. Her  
limbs still flailed about, jewellery chiming madly against the tiles.  
Spittle frothed in her mouth.  
Kurt carefully undid the top two buttons of her shirt and removed her  
necklaces. "Shhh..." he soothed. "It's going to be all right, now. Try  
to relax. I'll find help for you."  
Amanda was looking completely croggled. "What? After all she did to  
you? To *us*. Why?"  
"I have to," said Kurt. "She's the sister of my brother."  
"Ah," she nodded. "A Kurt thing."  
More nearly-curses and thrashing. Her feet drummed at the floor like a  
walking doll with an error. Her arms twisted and gyrated against an  
invisible enemy.  
The more Kurt soothed her, the worse she got.  
"Ach... I think I'm making her mad. Liebe? Could you sit with her? I  
need to find someone who can help."  
They swapped positions and Kurt headed out, wondering who he could  
consult. He didn't get far.  
There was a familiar figure almost at the door. She was tall, well-  
preserved to such an extent that she was ageless, and completely blind.  
She wore the more subtle clothes of her trade, and kept a riot of  
auburn hair in check with a simple bandana.  
Kurt stopped in his tracks. "Margali," he whispered, then switched to  
formal Rom. "[Mistress Sorceress, I did not harm your daughter. She fell  
ill by her own hand. She needs you.]"  
"I know, Kurti. That's why I came." As she passed by, she gently  
siezed his arm. "Come. You must witness."  
Kurt followed like a boy who'd been caught in an orchard.  
  
Amanda looked up and swore she felt her heart stop. Now *this* was a  
figure to inspire fear, and she had 'Mom' writ large all over her. "I've  
been trying to calm her down," she said, getting her credentials  
established in the first breath. "But the more I try to help her, the  
more she fights and--"  
"Enough. Margali sees all," said Margali. She left Kurt where he was  
and, without any aid at all, strode to her daughter's side. "So,  
wayward student. It is not enough that you learn the Way at the proper  
pace, but you must also seek to leap ahead, to gain power at others'  
expense. You poisoned your brother, who was together with you since your  
heart began to beat. You corrupted an innocent soul with your misdeed.  
You bound the unwilling to a promise you planned to break. You falsely  
wear the Signs of a Graduate, when your tutoring is undone. You ensnared  
the unwitting in a forbidden spell. You engendered lust where love would  
have sufficed. And you sought to destroy a soul who had done no harm.  
All for a step ahead in the Way."  
_Woo._ Thought Amanda. Kurt had crossed the distance between them and  
sat by her side. She was never gladder for his hand on hers.  
"Tell me, daughter," said Margali. "Did you honestly think that I  
wouldn't See your lies? That I would merely *let* you murder me? Or that  
this plan, hatched in a madman's dying words - would *work*?"  
Jimaine was frozen, staring in fear at her mother.  
"I give you leave to speak, and tell the truth."  
"Stefan was never wrong," said Jimaine. "He said Kurt was a demon. He  
knew. He saw demons, and they were always evil people."  
"Am I evil, daughter?"  
"You held me *back*. You forced me to stay behind when I needed to run  
ahead! Of *course* you're evil! Double-cursed maggot-bred bi--"  
Margali waved a hand, and no more sense came from Jimaine's mouth. "I  
see," she said. "When I met your father, even though I loved him, I knew  
he would spawn a great threat to the world. I thought that suppressing  
your demon half would help."   
"Demon half?" whispered Amanda.  
"Shh," said Kurt.  
"I thought, when Stefan began to go mad, that he would be the one.  
Then I had a vision. You used me as a bridge, trampled over me, to walk  
ahead on the Way. And wherever you tread, you left a wake of  
destruction. If I let you gain the power you sought, you would be the  
end of the world. I also Saw that you would not learn - until your own  
power struck you down." Margali soothed her daughter's hair. "I could  
not, in all conscience, let that happen. I Saw, and still don't  
understand, that your brother would help in your undoing... even though  
he's dead."  
"...demon," managed Jimaine. "You?"  
"That is what my kind are called. There are very few of us left, for  
obvious reasons... but I and my few kindred are no more evil than any  
other child of God. It's the half-bloods, the ones with demon powers and  
human lust, that are dangerous. I thought to save you by forcing your  
human side. I was wrong." Margali turned her blind eyes to Kurt.  
"Forgive me, junge. I must See the Truth, and for that, I need my  
natural eyes."  
Margali glowed from within, and stretched. When the glow faded, she  
was - green. Her skin was emerald, her hair a rich jade, her eyes the  
colour of new leaves. Even the ram's horns on her head were green, as  
were the talons that tipped her fingers. She looked at Kurt and wept.  
"Ah... still so young. And yet, so strong."  
She wasn't looking at Kurt. She was looking *past* him. At someone  
Amanda couldn't see.  
"Oh, my son," whispered Margali. "Are either of my children to be  
saved?" She listened to the silence, and slumped. "Danke. *Danke*..."  
She sighed. "Good news, wayward daughter. You *can* be saved, in both  
body *and* soul."  
"...he--" Jimaine gasped. "...hecatae..."  
"She has no patience for those without power," said Margali, slowly  
reverting to her human shape. "There's only one God who forgives sinners  
and failures, and you must turn to Him of your own will and ask it of  
Him, first."  
Kurt plucked his own cross from under his shirt and kissed it.  
"...nnnnvf," said Jimaine.  
"Willful to the last," Margali sighed. "Daughter, heed me. You're  
suffering from your own spell, and in a moment, you will suffer the  
backlash from the web of tangled enchantments you wove around that boy.  
And just when you begin to become used to that pain, I will give you my  
Sight, the True Sight, and you will see his soul as *I* have always seen  
his soul. And if *that* will not make you repent, I face you to that  
mirror and you will witness your own *stain*."  
"Margali. Mercy, please," Kurt begged. "She's your *daughter*."  
"Aye. And a threat to all living on this Earth if she's allowed to  
walk the Way as she's chosen. I cannot let evil persist; especially if  
its an evil that can be turned. I'm sorry, my boy, but mercy will not  
help her." She touched a finger to Kurt's brow. "Blessing thrice  
invoked, come forth and cut thy owner's bonds, free him that keeps thee  
from the work of evil want."  
Amanda swore she saw the imprint of a kiss under Margali's finger,  
then there was a shattering sound, and Jimaine convulsed anew.  
"Margali?" Kurt rubbed at the memory of her touch.  
"A protection spell," said the Sorceress. "Woven when you were a babe  
in arms. Your parents were very worried about people stealing you when  
they were working. So I worked it so that all your Mama or Papa had to  
do was kiss that spot, and you'd be safe from all malice."  
Kurt smiled. "I'm never turning down another good-luck kiss again."  
Amanda tentatively put up her hand. "Ma'am? Can you put me in on  
that?"  
"You're already there. When I wove the blessing, I said, 'from those  
who love him true'," Margali smirked. "I'm not as hasty as *some* of my  
students."  
Jimaine started to weep.  
"Daughter, do repent?"  
"...he--" Jimaine gasped. "...he-- hecatae... help me..."  
Margali sighed. "Thine eyes to mine. Mine eyes to thine. See the Truth  
and know the Truth, then *learn* the Truth."  
Jimaine blinked. Her eyes were occluded white, then leaf green, then  
she shut them tight.  
"Don't make me force you to look," said Margali.  
Jimaine looked at Kurt, then wept. "Nein... Nein, it's not true..."  
"What do you see?"  
"He-- he... It *can't*..." She sobbed. "He's beautiful."  
"Do you repent?"  
"HECATAE!" Jimaine's voice was desperate, now. "Hecatae..."  
"So it comes to this." Margali stood, and lifted her daughter from the  
floor. "See for yourself what you've become."  
Jimaine took one look at herself in the mirror and screamed. 


	30. Part 30

Part 30 ^_^  
  
Mrs Henricks trailed to a halt when she heard the scream. "Stay in  
your seats, please," she said, and left the room.  
She knew full well that the entire class would not only *not* stay in  
their seats, but about half would attempt to follow her.  
The noise was coming from the girls' bathroom.  
Mrs Henricks broke into a run.  
  
Margali eased her daughter down to the floor. "You always struggled  
with your lessons," she sighed. "Not because you were second-born, but  
because you refused to *listen*."  
Jimaine, unintelligable once more, writhed and frothed in her mother's  
arms.  
"Is everything all right?" Mrs Henricks demanded as she burst in on  
the scene.  
Kurt shook his head, unnoticed tears were spilling from his eyes. In  
another world, he could have loved her; but not like this. All he truly  
felt for her was pity. Nothing more.  
  
Amanda took up the role of spokesperson. "She had some kind of fit,"  
she said. "I think maybe she was -um- with Kurt."  
"...dragged me in here..." Kurt muttered. He was looking shocky and  
scared and out of it. "She tried to... she tried... Oh, Gott..."  
Mrs Henricks' mouth went into a thin line. "*MMmmmm*. There's always  
one who tries it. Mr Wagner? Did anything -er- happen?"  
"Nein. Nein..." He was shaking his head, as if denying the moment.  
"She fell before... I wouldn't let her. Couldn't get out. Swar Ich, I  
didn't *want* to. *She* wanted to. I tried to get away. I didn't touch  
her. She just--"  
"Shhh..." Amanda soothed, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. "It's  
okay, honey. It's all right. Come on. Wanna get outta here?"  
Kurt's nervous head-shaking turned into a nod akin to a nervous tic.  
"Bitte... Bitte, Geliebt." He was trembling.  
Amanda gently helped him outside, to a little patch of sunshine and  
trees, and sat beside him and held him while he shook and stared at  
nothing.  
  
"Is she going to be all right?"  
The blind woman, Mrs Szardos, held her daughter close and soothed her  
hair. "In time, I hope she will recover. My son already perished from a  
madness like this. I have medicines..." she sighed. "Now she is  
stricken, at least she will sit still to take them. You were always my  
willful one, daughter. I can only pray you recover."  
"Uh. We have some doctors here, who might be able to help?"  
"American medicine will do her no good." Mrs Szardos dug some herbs  
from her bag. "Her sickness has gone to her soul. They would only cure  
her body. Here, liebchen. Chew these, ja? They'll help you walk."  
Miss Szardos shook more violently and even spat out some garbled  
sounds.  
Mrs Szardos sighed, "Ever willful," and rocked with her daughter,  
singing something old and foreign.  
Ever so gradually, Jimi Szardos relaxed. Her mouth eased open.  
Gently, Mrs Szardos fed the herbs to her, leaf by leaf. "Her movement  
will be restricted, but she will be able to move, at any rate. I will  
take her home. She will heal there."  
Mrs Henricks found herself nodding, even though she barely understood  
it.  
  
Kurt gave a gasp, muttered, "Oh, liebe..." and lunged into her arms,  
holding onto her as if she were his last hope of salvation.  
Amanda held him with both arms. "It's all right, now. Shhh... Shhh...  
It's all right. It's all over, now. She can't hurt you."  
"Nein. I was never afraid for me, Geliebt."  
_*Oh*._ "Okay. She can't hurt *us*, any more. It's okay, now. It's  
okay..."  
Kurt was riding our the residual tides of fear and fretting. "I was so  
worried for you..."  
"Me too; but for you. But it all worked out for the best, didn't it?"  
Kurt sighed. "I don't know... My brother is still dead, and I couldn't  
save him. His sister -- I could have loved her, Geleibt, but she's  
rotten inside... And now she's suffering and it's all my fault. If  
only... If only..."  
"Sssshhhh..." Amanda soothed. "None of it's your fault, honey. You  
couldn't have done anything."  
"I could have hung on. If only I could've hung on... he'd be alive."  
Someone cast a shadow over them. Margali. "I see shards of other  
worlds, Kurti. If you had both climbed that cliff, innocents would have  
died at his hand. So many that you would be *forced* to kill him. Or the  
townsfolk of Winzeldorf would have put him in your place on the stake.  
My son was doomed to die from the moment he first ate the poison leaf...  
and you had no way of stopping that."  
"...Stefan..."  
"Ja. I know. You loved him. So did I. You're innocent of his death,  
liebe, and he forgives you. He's chosen to watch over you, and protect  
you."  
Kurt absently touched his right shoulder. "I felt him," he said. "I  
didn't know what it meant, but I felt him."  
"Um," said Amanda. "Where's Jimaine?"  
"I gave her a boundary. Typical to her nature, she's testing it. She  
will come to me or suffer the consequences. We will go home, soon, and  
Jimaine will learn. One way or the other."  
"I'll pray for her," said Kurt.  
"Bless you," Margali whispered, bending to kiss his forehead. "May you  
live your live according to your choices, and not any other's."  
"May you walk free," Kurt replied.  
Margali swept away, restrained power incarnate. In a moment, Jimaine  
came stumbling by, looking as if she were in extreme pain, herded by  
some invisible force at her back.  
"Well," said Amanda. "At least life with you isn't going to be  
boring."  
"Ach!" Kurt slapped his forehead. "We forgot your father! What are we  
gonna tell *him*?"  
"Easy," said Amanda. "Evan was going out with three other girls at the  
same time."  
Kurt boggled at her. "What?"  
"C'mon... what's a little character assassination between friends?  
We'll hatch the whole plot with him this afternoon."  
Kurt got his trademark goofy smile back. "You're cute when you're  
planning things..."  
  
Evan knew that look. "Who's in trouble after you two get done?"  
"Er..." said Kurt. That's the thing..."  
_Uh oh._  
"We wanna make you persona non-grata with my dad," said Amanda.  
"Scum of the universe," Kurt added. "So just about anything is  
better."  
_Uh oh confirmed._ "Um. You do have two brothers who are bigger and  
stronger than me," he said. "And the rest of them can gang up. With  
weapons."  
"Wuss," said Kurt.  
Amanda snorted. "I already *explained* to them that our whole  
relationship is fake."  
Evan sighed with relief. "So *that* explains the decrease in menacing  
'phone calls. And the notes in my locker."  
"See?" said Kurt. "I *said* he could figure things out."  
"Ha ha," sarcasmed Evan. "So what's the plan?"  
"First off, you're going out with three other girls," said Amanda.  
  
"Hey, Jean."  
"Hi, Scott."  
"Um. About the whole love spell thing... Um. I wasn't really in  
control... Um. I swear I'd never be that much of a pest if - youknow -  
you let me close."  
"Really?"  
"Honest," said Scott. "Flowers, yes. Chocolates, definitely. But no  
singing. Absolutely no singing whatsoever."  
Jean had to smile. "Really? No singing at all?"  
Scott blushed. "Face it, I suck. I couldn't sing to save my soul."  
"But you're so *cute* when you're trying to hit the high notes," Jean  
teased.  
Scott groaned. "If you love my singing, I'll sing for you," he said.  
"But only if you insist, y'know? And not in public..." he sighed. "I  
know you're with Matthews and everything, but -- I *know* you're the  
girl for me. If I gotta wait forever - that's just how long it's gonna  
take."  
"Aaaaawwww..." Jean gave him a hug. "Trust me. If Dunc and I split up,  
you're the first person I'll think of."  
"Good," said Scott. "'Cause I really need you to do me an extra-  
special favour."  
"I'm not mindwiping the whole school about the Eidelweiss thing."  
"No, no, nononono. Nothing like that, I swear! It's a really *really*  
small favour."  
"Okay. What do I have to do?"  
"Explain the ping pong thing to Jamie? The little guy's driving me  
*nuts*!" 


End file.
